


The Ends

by InTheAfterAll



Series: The Ends [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Apocalypse, Batsex, Damian is adorable, End of the World, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Roy harper is a love, Surviving, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Tim is too smart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-08-08 11:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 43,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7755379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheAfterAll/pseuds/InTheAfterAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all crumbled so quickly, the world.  I was not prepared to live through something like this.  First The Ends took our heroes, and then it destroyed our families, and now for those who survived, it is reaching in and trying to take our souls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Ends 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is what it is.

The Ends

AFTER

Gotham

I think this is the first time the air in Gotham has tasted clean. The wind is light but cold and there is a dusting of snow falling from the grey sky. They are standing only a few feet away from me. His arm is around her waist as he presses into her back. Whether it is to keep her from the chill or to anchor him I am not sure. Déjà vu sets in again, once too often for my liking. The end is over, now comes the hard part…  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I can feel him press into me, the uneven ground causing him problems. He will say it is to keep me warm but I know and I will say nothing. I like him there. The snow is starting to come down harder now, blanketing the world in clean white dust. This feels like the end. I really hope it is. Familiarity strikes at me again. It has happened so many times over the past year. It is unnerving. I should be looking forward, ahead to what is to come but I find myself glancing behind, back to the beginning of the end…

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

BEFORE 

New York

I was scrambling around in my bedroom, rushing as to not be late. “Mom, where is my blazer? Mom!” I was irritated that she didn’t answer me. Stomping down the hall of our spacious Manhattan apartment I stopped behind the sofa with my hands on my hips to give her a piece of my spoiled little mind. Mom and Dad sat together, my younger brother Jackson sat on the floor in front of them and my older sister Kennedy stood close to where I was behind the sofa. All of them staring transfixed to the television. The news played the same clip over and over again as a red bar streamed across the bottom of the screen stating it was a scene from Metropolis only an hour ago. The camera though shaky is raised to the sky as Superman hovers between two buildings above a traffic crammed street. He seems to be having problems maintaining flight as he dips and rises several times before crashing into the top of a cab far below. The camera then shakes so badly that nothing can be seen but distorted colors until it comes to focus again fairly close to the fallen hero. His eyes are open and glazed looking off somewhere that we the viewers cannot follow. Blood drips from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. He is dead. I don’t believe it at first. He is the strongest person in the entire world. He can’t just fall out of the sky and die. The news anchors are discussing the footage and state that yes in fact Superman is dead. The city of Metropolis is in chaos. There was no battle, no threat but the citizens in their panic have created a chaotic scene that if not put in check will escalate into riots. 

“Dad what happened, was he sick or hurt?” Jackson asks.

‘I don’t know kiddo, I really don’t know.” My Dad answers quietly.

My Dad is a doctor, well a podiatrist so if it was a recognizable illness he would know, right? Mom is a dentist, she would know to if Superman was sick with some kind of disease, at least I think she would. Mom stands and puts on her face. You know the one that Moms use to cover up what is really going on. 

“Alright you guys, times a wasting you have to get to school.”

None of us argue. I find my school uniform blazer hanging over my chair at the kitchen table and shrug into it. It’s still cool outside, spring hasn’t really come yet. I grab the lunch with Spencer written on it and tuck it into my back pack. I move like I do every morning but today is different. There is a feeling. What is it called? Déjà vu, it’s strange and I don’t like the way it sits heavy in my guts. 

In the parking garage of our building Dad gives each of us a wave as he climbs into his car and heads to work. Kennedy, Jackson, and I climb into the minivan so Mom can drop us off at our schools before she heads into the office as well. It all seems so ordinary but today is anything but. 

“Spencer Honda, what the hell girl, did you even look in a mirror this morning?” my friend Jasmine asks. I guess I look dumbfounded because she decided to tell me in detail what was wrong with me. “Your hair is a tangle of knots, your blouse is not tucked in and you didn’t even put lip gloss on.” Obviously my appearance is a travesty.

“I was a bit preoccupied Jaz with the whole Superman thing.” I answer indifferently as I open my locker.

“Yeah that was freaky, you heard about The Flash right?” She asks in that I know some gossip that you don’t tone.

“No.” I cannot hold back the edge of concern in my voice.

She pulls out her phone and slides through it until she finds what she is looking for and holds it out for me to take. It is another news broadcast, this time from Central City. The footage is also amateur and it shows the red clad speedster lying at the base of a wall, eyes open, blood dripping from them and his other orifices. It appears as if he ran headlong into the brick building and died instantly. I know that fear is an appropriate reaction to such a thing but the twisting in my stomach almost makes me want to be sick.

“Hey, whoa, you ok Spence?” Jasmine asks throwing an arm over my shoulders and taking back her phone.

“Yeah, I am, it’s just really crazy, ya know?”

“It is. I hope there aren’t any riots. I mean no supers around to stop the crazies.” Jasmine says looking off down the hall.

She’s not wrong. The people with powers kept everything in check. I know the police do the same thing but it’s just different. New York doesn’t have its own personal hero like Metropolis or Central City or Gotham but The Justice League, The Teen Titans, and Nightwing have been here to defend us on more than one occasion and I am grateful for their help. 

The rest of the day is normal. Well I mean it is normal in the sense that my school day has no unusual occurrences. The news about The Flash and Superman hang heavy over a lot, if not all of us. The fear of the unknown clings to my skin and sets jolts of anxiety running along my nervous system. I fear that there will be more bad news to come. I fear that there will just be more.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Gotham

I received the alert from the Justice League at six twenty-seven am. I was in Metropolis immediately. Diana, myself, and John Jones were the ones to remove Clark from the scene. Having to face Lois was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do but then in the same day I had to face Iris, both Clark and Barry gone. It was unbelievable. How? Both Lois and Iris said that they complained of feeling tired, feeling off. I was able to obtain a blood sample from both of my friends. I found something rather mundane. Influenza type C. That is a mild respiratory virus. The flu. Not something that should have infected let alone killed two of the strongest men alive. I went over the virus again and again. I came up with nothing.

“It’s impossible.”

“What is sir?” Alfred asks as he sets a tray of food and coffee down beside me.

“It’s the flu Alfred, that’s it, nothing more.” How could something like that affect them so severely? I had more questions than I did answers. 

The signal was up, it had been for awhile now. Here like in other cities the criminal element is taking full advantage of panic and unease. I turn on the com. “Nightwing, see what Gordon wants.”

“On it.” He replies immediately. 

At that moment another message comes in from The League. Diana’s face fills the screen in front of me and my heart skips a beat. Her eyes look red and irritated, dark circles mare the tender flesh beneath her lashes and a small trickle of blood runs from her nose.

“Bruce, are you alright?” She asks with a crack in her voice and a small cough she forces away.

“Jesus Diana, yes I’m fine. I’m on my way hang…”

“NO!” She interrupts. “Stay away! John is gone. I will not be in this life much longer. I have received word that Simon and Jessie, the lanterns have perished from this epidemic as well. Bruce call your son, The Titans have losses as well.”

I run my hand roughly through my hair. Panic is working its way into my heart, my lungs, my mind. “Diana, I...”

“Bruce, the news people are calling it The Ends, ending their heroes. Figure it out Bruce. You have t coff coff.”

The feed cuts out and I am mad with helplessness. I have holed myself up in the cave looking for answers but while I was here it spread like wild fire. The Ends. The Heroes. Only those with powers. I open a channel to The Teen Titans. “Titans, this is Batman, requesting a report.” Nothing. The silence seems to stretch out forever. Seconds past but they feel like hours. “Titans, this is Batman, requesting a report, do you read. Titans!” Still silence. “Goddamit Damian answer me!”

“Father?”

Thank God. “Robin report.”

“I, I am the only Titan remaining father, Koriand’r just succumbed to the illness.” Damian’s voice shook slightly but he tried to hide it. 

“Home, now.”

“But Father, Their bodies I must…” He couldn’t finish

Fifteen, he was only fifteen, having to watch his entire team die and not be able to do anything about it. Damian’s strength never ceased to amaze him. “I already have a biohaz crew on route. There is nothing more you can do. Come home.” “And Robin, how are you feeling?”

“If you are asking if I feel the effects of the illness the answer is no I feel very well.” His voice is strained and still shaky.

“Alright, before you leave take a few swab samples of common surfaces. I am trying to work this through but I am almost out of time.” The boy nodded and closed the link. I have never been more relieved in my entire life and grief stricken at the same time.

Something struck me suddenly and I picked up my cell and quickly found the contact I was looking for. It rang several times but the call was answered.

“Bruce?”

“Oliver, are you ill?” There is no time for pleasantries.

“No I’m not, and apparently neither are you. No powers no Ends. Am I right?”

“I’m not positive but my answer for now is yes. Do you know where Arsenal is?”

Oliver sighs heavily. “Not one hundred percent. I think he’s in New York.”

I hesitate but, “And…”

“She’s not well.”

“Thank you Oliver.” I hang up the phone shaking my head to rid it of the sense of Déjà vu and put it down only to pick it up again. I’m calling them all, calling all of them home.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

New York

Dad brings home take out that apparently he had to fight his way through the crowds for and we all sit in front of the television. There are no regularly scheduled programs on tonight, only news. Every station we have. It’s not just here. All over the world heroes are falling. The news reporters speculate that The Ends as they are now calling it started days ago. Bodies from the fabled land of Atlantis have washed ashore on the coasts of Scandinavian countries and heroes from Europe, Asia, and Australia have succumbed to the virus. 

“Hiro, what is it, a new strain of influenza?” My mother asks looking to my father for answers.

“It seems that way at first glance doesn’t it Lisa but it is far too specific in who it effects. If I had to make a guess I think it would be engineered to take down those possessing super powers.” My Dad is far smarter then I give him credit for.

“Is it wrong that I feel slightly relieved by that?” She asks my Dad as she looks at my brother, sister, and me.

My Dad only smiles sadly at her. I get it. I was scared to that maybe I could get sick and die then I was scared that one of my family members would get sick and die. I don’t want them to die, the heroes, I really don’t. I feel guilty for feeling relieved just like my mother. The news drones on repeating the events of the day, reports of looting and riots from some cities are coming in. The NYPD are out in full force to prevent that from happening here but it doesn’t stop the sound of glass breaking and the shrill scream of car alarms from going off sporadically out in the night of our neighborhood. Mom forces us to bed just after one am. I am tired but there is no way that I will be able to sleep anytime soon.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Gotham

Tim is rerunning tests on the blood samples I have from Clark and Barry. His friend Miguel also known as Bunker lies shivering. He is seriously ill and has volunteered to give samples or help us try and run this mystery down in any way. He has a fever of 104.6. It is getting dangerously high. Acetaminophen and Ibuprofen have not helped to bring it down. Even externally trying to lower his body temperature has failed. He is presenting influenza symptoms far more serious then type C should cause. Eventually the pressure in his lungs will be too much and he will drown in his own blood. Though I am being clinical, I am not heartless. I want to find answers before it is too late for this young man. I have set an I.V administering fluids and Amoxicillin. I do not believe the antibiotic will help as The Ends is a virus not bacterial but I try none the less. As his condition deteriorates I have a mild sedative I can give him to ease the pain and discomfort of his final moments. I still hope for answers. 

Dick is contacting everyone he can. I mean that literally. Unfortunately his efforts are for very few results. He has made contact with Helena Bertenelli and she is healthy though on the other side of the globe at this moment. He also has established contact with Spyral, agent 1 to be more precise. The Tiger King of Kandahar with all of his resources has no more information than we do now. We have agreed to share anything we discover with him and he will return the favor. 

Tim, Dick and I are home with Alfred. Damian is on his way as is Jason. Barbara has an open com, planning to stay close to her father. Cassandra is in Hong Kong and Stephanie has been keeping a low profile. I’m not sure if congregating in one location is a wise decision but I made it and feel a small amount of ease with it.

“Bruce.” Tim calls from medical. He has left his tests and stands beside Miguel with his hands on his friends shoulder. The young man is struggling to breath and his eyes are tinted red from the blood pooling in their corners. I quickly inject the sedative I had prepared and his tense muscles relax. Tim stays unmoving until his friend’s last ragged breath leaves him. Tim’s head hangs and his eyes close, I do not interrupt. I leave the room. We can gather what samples we need shortly for now I give Tim a moment to mourn.

It is just shy of twenty four hours since Clark. It is estimated that the virus began its run two days ago. It has moved so fast that no one was prepared. Cities are panicking and threats of all out riots flood the news. Police have their hands full. Once Damian and Jason arrive we will have to be out there. We will have to try and keep order. We are few but we are all that is left. I hope that this is over, that we can start to pick up the pieces and find answers but Déjà vu pulls my stomach back into my spine and leaves a bitter taste on my tongue.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will give warnings where they are needed. I probably should have said in the first chapter but I didn't. Please R&R
> 
> Warnings: Character death and all around end of the world sucking.

The Ends 2

New York

I woke with a start, sitting upright knocking my pillow to the floor. I had fallen asleep but it was restless. The dream was frightening but the clarity of it was slipping away leaving only a foreboding in my heart. The bright glowing red numbers of my alarm clock read 5:59 and as I watched they changed sounding a rather annoying beep. Kennedy threw one of her decorative pillows at me squarely hitting me in the face. “Ugg turn it off Spence.” I comply and climb out of bed. Today is March fifteenth, my sixteenth birthday. I don’t feel much like celebrating but Mom and Dad burst into our room with a cupcake lit with a candle singing happy birthday. It’s tradition in the Honda household to bombard the birthday boy or girl at the crack of dawn with a cupcake and presents. I smile despite myself and blow out the candle. I do not make a wish. Jackson stumbles in rubbing his tired eyes and both he and Kennedy sit on my bed beside me. Mom hands me my gift from her and Dad wrapped in bright orange tissue paper. A Coach wallet, designer, beautiful. I hug them both and am very thankful for the extravagant gift. Jackson pulls out a small package wrapped in line paper and hands it me. He made me an orange and white bracelet weaved with string. It is so adorably my ten year old brother. Kennedy smirks and shoves me into Jackson as she gets up and retrieves her gift to me from under her bed. It is in an old shoe box. I tear off the lid and stare in awe at the black zip up hoodie with the orange hood. I have borrowed this hoodie so many times and I have begged her to just give it to me. She always refused.

“You only turn sixteen once little sister, enjoy it.” Kennedy says bumping my shoulder.

“Thank you everyone.”

For a moment I forget that the world outside has changed. That something of epic proportions is happening but as everyone leaves me to prepare for their day I am struck with anxiety. I dress and brush my teeth, I eat my breakfast, and I pack my lunch. Mom will drop us off at school and she and Dad will go to work. The streets are littered with paper and broken glass as well as more people than normal but we keep to routine as if nothing has happened. Jackson looks concerned as he gets out at his school but plugs ahead like the trooper he is. Kennedy and I are dropped off next. She is whisked away as soon as she steps out of the vehicle by her group of friends. I trudge up to the doors and down the halls until I come across Jasmine. 

“The Green Lantern, Cyborg, all of the Teen Titans I think and Wonder Woman. Those have been confirmed.” She says as if announcing what we will be having for lunch. 

“Jaz, this is serious. They were people you know not just characters on TV.” I spit with a little too much venom.

“Pfttt, I know Spence. I’m just giving you the facts.”

“Sorry Jaz, I didn’t sleep well last night.” I tell my friend but she has already moved on and is wishing me a happy birthday.

Half way through our day at lunch an announcement comes over the P.A.   
“The remainder of the school day has been cancelled. Parents have been contacted and busses have arrived and are ready for loading in front of the school. Please gather your belongings and assignments.”

I am not sure why school has been canceled but I am relieved. Not to get out of class, ok maybe a little, but mostly I don’t feel safe. Jasmine and I walk to the front of the school and she boards one of the buses with a wave and a text you later. I search around and finally find Kennedy standing alone behind the buses. I make my way over. She looks pale. “Are you ok Ken?” I ask as I approach her. She looks at me for a moment before registering my question.

“Yeah Spence, just tired. Do you know what’s going on?”

I don’t. Our Mom pulls up in front of us and Kennedy gets in the front passenger seat, I slide the van door open and duck in beside Jackson. “Mom do you know what’s going on?” I ask her hesitantly.

“I, I, um it’s just a precaution honey.” My Mom answers. She never calls any of us honey.

Kennedy reaches over to turn the radio up and Mom slaps her hand away. This is not right. 

“Mom we need to know what’s going on.” Jackson almost yells

Having the youngest member of our family speak to her so authoritatively has her rethink her motives, she allows Kennedy to turn the radio on.

“There are confirmed cases of The Ends at Bellevue Hospital, Mount Sinai, and Brookdale University Hospital.”

We all stare at the radio in the minivan. My insides twist again in Déjà vu.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Gotham

I leave my com open, not shutting it off like I am known to do. We are spread out all over the city more on crowd control than anything else right now. I am thankful that is all. I have not really spoken to Jason since his arrival except for a few pleasantries. There are so many things that should be said but I know as well as he does that it will remain in silence. Damian, though wounded deeply by the loss of his team is persevering. He has matured and grown from his time with the Titans. Tim has actually stayed behind. He is still deep into pulling this virus apart, trying to solve the mystery. Dick is grief stricken. Koriand’r was important to him but he somehow still remains optimistic, rational but looking for that elusive ray of hope. Barbara is serious and is staying close to the GCPD. I am keeping my eye on the distant shadow of Arkham. 

“Batman?”

“Go ahead Red Robin.”

“I might have found something.”

“On my way. Nightwing?”

“I have it covered, go.”

I make my way to the cave as quickly as possible, a tight ball of tension resting in my stomach. I am hoping for answers, I am hoping for reassurance, I am hoping for hope. 

I pull back the cowl and stand behind a seated Tim at the computer. He types and the large screen glares with the image of the virus. I have seen it before. I have looked at it more than I cared to in the past hours. I see nothing that I have not already seen. He enlarges the image and then again. He stands and taps the screen. “Right there, do you see that?” He asks not looking away from the screen. I look hard to where his finger is. At first it doesn’t register but then I see what he is seeing, a square. A small perfectly formed square on the virus is glaringly obvious now that it has been pointed out. A virus is a naturally occurring life form. A perfect geometric shape consistent on multiple samples of a virus is impossible.

“Did you get measurements? Is it really what it appears to be?” I ask knowing that of course Tim was thorough. 

“I did and it is a perfect geometrically correct square. This virus was engineered but I am not able to tell you how it was done or even how it is possible. Bruce, this is something that should not even be an idea. It is a technology that we can’t even begin to understand.” He is excited but I can hear the edge of concern in his voice.

“So the Justice League and the others were targeted?” I question more to myself then to Tim.

“If I had to guess I would say yes they were.”

“Excuse me sir, Master Tim I believe there is something you should see.” Alfred interrupts. 

He switches the screen to a local news broadcast as a young blonde woman stands outside of Gotham General, microphone in hand as the crowds rush past her in both directions.

“It has been reported that there are in fact confirmed cases of The Ends here in Gotham. Gotham General, Gotham Memorial, and West Mercy Hospital have all had civilian cases.”

 

First the world’s strongest were targeted now ordinary people are falling victim but why those with powers first? Are we being set up for invasion?

“Tim, cross reference all known alien tech, actually all known tech and try to find a match. Check all of our data on Apokolips.” I order.

“Already started, I have an algorithm working on any known source remotely resembling our little square.” He responds confidently.

“Good, I’m heading back out.”

As I turn to leave an Icon Sheene bike swerves and pitches into the cave. It comes to a stuttering stop and falls on its side heavily as Jason staggers away from it. It takes him a moment to regain his footing but as he stands straight he is still swaying. I move towards him as he clumsily removes his red helmet and tosses it to the floor. He is pale, dark patches starting to form beneath his bloodshot eyes. I reach him just before he loses his balance entirely. 

“Heh, taken down by the flu, didn’t see that one coming.” He chuckles weakly.

He is burning up.

“Alfred!”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

New York

Kennedy is sick. Dad took her to the ER five hours ago but they just returned home. She was seen on arrival and put into a separate waiting room. Four and a half hours later they were still sitting there, not one doctor had seen anyone from that room. Dad said the military was in the hospital. He didn’t wait around. He quickly took Kennedy out the side door and drove home. He is a doctor. He will treat her here at home and everything will be fine. I am not allowed to go into our room. Dad is in there with Ken and Mom is in and out. Jackson and I are in front of the TV watching news broadcasts from around the world. It is the same everywhere. Turning back to a local station the anchor is listing hospitals that are still accepting patients and stating the wait times for first responders. There are so many people falling sick that the wait time for an ambulance is one hour and thirty minutes.

“Spencer, this is, like in the movies only without the zombies. “ Jackson states looking at me with the most despairing expression I have ever seen on a child.

“No Jackson, come on it’s not like that kiddo.” I try to deflect.

“Don’t patronize me Spencer.”

“I’m sorry Jackson, I just, I just want to believe everything will be ok.”

Dad comes out of my room for the first time in hours. It is well past midnight but both Jackson and I are still up surfing through the channels hoping against hope for good news. Dad sits himself in between my brother and me. He is silent for what feels like an eternity. He is wringing his fingers and breathing deeply.

“Your Mother has become ill.” He says it like he is reading out loud the ending of a book. “Kennedy is very sick and your Mother is as well. I am going to do everything I can. I will. Spencer I need you to take care of Jackson. I need you to step up out here ok, can you do that for me?”

Of course I can. What is he even thinking asking me such a stupid question? I will do whatever it takes to help him help Mom and Kennedy. “I will.”

“Good, I have I.V’s set and fluids are being administered. We have enough acetaminophen to get them through this. So you two turn off the TV and get some sleep. I love you both very much.”

He wraps an arm around us both and squeezes before he stands and makes his way back down the hall leaving us to the silence of our apartment and the noise and chaos of the street bellow. It is late and it takes no time at all for Jackson to slip blissfully into slumber. Unfortunately it takes me much longer.

I awake in a few short hours after falling into a fitful sleep. I can hear nothing from down the hall so I move towards my bedroom. The door is cracked open and I can finally hear something. I can hear my father breathing but that is all I hear. I push the door open and see my Dad sitting on the floor, knees drawn up, leaning against the night table between the two beds. Kennedy is in her bed and Mom is in mine. The blankets are pulled up covering both of their faces.

“Dad?”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Gotham

I hear the wail like it comes from another room. I know it formed deep in my throat and slid serpent like up and out of my mouth. I tried to repress it but it was impossible. I have lost him. Again. Jason’s eyes stare off into the distance as a tear, ruby red runs down his cheek. The heart monitor drones on a never ending beeeeeeep. My fists are tightly wound in the t-shirt covering his chest and it takes both Tim and Dick to pry my fingers loose. No miracle or Lazarus pit will bring him back. I want to punch something. I want to make something or someone suffer for this. I want justice but for this, there is none to be found. I cannot see, I cannot think until I hear Barbara’s voice, shaky and wet over the com. 

“My Dad, he, he was sick, he…”

I straighten and draw in a deep breath. I pull myself together. I am not whole. I will never be again but I am together. “Dick, Go, bring Barbara here.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: There are no warnings for this chapter except for post apocalyptic angst etc... Thank you to everyone who reads!

The Ends 3

New York

Six days ago the world was still wrapped in the grip of winter. Six days ago was my sixteenth birthday. Six days ago an unstoppable virus ripped through cities around the globe. Six days ago my whole world fell apart. Today is the first day of spring, a new beginning, a rebirth. Looking out the large front window of our ninth story apartment I highly doubt that. Today is still the end. Today is still destruction. Today is still clouded in death. 

The streets below are a war zone, littered with garbage, glass, and bodies. It all crumbled so quickly, the world. I was not prepared to live through something like this. First The Ends took our heroes, and then it destroyed our families, and now for those who survived, it is reaching in and trying to take our souls. There are no authorities, they are either dead or they ran. There is no power, no running water. So many people died so quickly. So many people panicked. Society is a far more fragile thing than anyone had ever assumed. The military was here in Manhattan, but their fate was the same as the residents. Those who did not get sick or did not run are now either hiding or taking. My Dad, my brother and I are hiding in our apartment. There are gangs of people out there now. We can see them as we peek out of our windows. They take what they want, destroy what and who they want, there is no restraint. It is the end of the world.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Gotham

There are only five of us and Alfred. Gotham has crumbled and I was powerless to stop it. The Ends took from me, it took from Gotham, and it took from the world. We have taken up residence in the cave. There are no utilities above but here we have power, we have water, and we have questions. Last night a group of survivors ransacked the manor above, taking what they deemed as valuable. The useless currency and petty technology is worthless, let them have it. They set fire to the north east end, collapsing part of the roof before the ever lingering rain extinguished it. We will chase the squatters out shortly but their meddling has only given us more camouflage. 

Tim and I have gotten no closer to solving the mystery of the virus. It seems to have selected its targets rather than just spreading as the flu normally does and it also appears to have run its course but that is only speculation. We are on alert, tracking satellites and radio frequencies for any sign of invasion. Everything is eerily quiet.

“I am removing the trespassers Father, then I will patrol. There will be people who need assistance.” Damian states as he moves towards his uniform.

“Damian will remove the squatters. Robin will patrol, do you understand?” I speak stopping his movement. He ponders that for a moment then agrees.

“Yes Father.”

“I’ll go with you Damian.” Dick announces as he jogs to catch up.

Damian and Dick have always worked well together and I feel better knowing the two are together rather than alone.

Security cameras I have placed in the manor and around the city are still online as most are solar powered and linked directly to the cave. The images are not as clear as I would like but it is a way to monitor activity. There will be more violence I am certain. Society is broken, the world is crumbling and only the strong will survive.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

New York

We share one can of beans between the three of us with a few stale saltines. We are now rationing for two meals a day and water is becoming a concern. The temperatures at night are still very cold and we have had to huddle together for warmth. We were not prepared, we still are not.

I linger peeking through the crack of the heavy curtains on our front window. I have held sentry here since… the Ends. The moon is almost full and it lights the street below in an eerie white wash. I can see stars if I look to the sky, millions of them. A sight I never even considered here in New York. Dad shuffles and gently lifts Jackson’s head from his lap where he had fallen asleep. My brother stirs and mumbles a little before his breathing evens out again. Dad stands beside me and throws a protective arm around my shoulders. He inhales sharply and lets out his breath in a long drawn out sigh as he removes his arm.

“We need food and water Spence?”

“I know.” I reply wrapping my arms around myself to replace the warmth of my father’s arm.

“I have to go out. We only have maybe two days, three if we stretch it.”

I know this. I know that without food but more importantly water hiding here will be for not. Still, out there is dangerous. 

“Look at me.” My father orders. I look towards him in fear. Not of him but for him, for me, for Jackson.

“I am leaving this on you and I am so sorry my beautiful girl.” He brushes my tangled hair behind my ears. His expression is so sad. I have never seen my Dad like this, not even at my Grandfather’s funeral. “I will leave at first light to find what we need. If I don’t come back…”

“Don’t!” I say breathlessly.

He grabs my face in both of his hands and bends to look directly into my eyes. “If I don’t come back you are to take your brother, be careful and avoid people. Make your way to Denise’s. This is not a request Spencer it is an order, do you understand?”

My heart is in my throat but I whisper, “Yes.”

He lets my face go and pulls me into a tight hug, kissing the top of my head. “I love you both.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Gotham

I am sitting with all the information we have on The Ends spread out across the desk as well as on the screen. I squeeze the bridge of my nose to fend off a tension headache that threatens to climb in when Alfred pulls my attention away.

“Oh dear.” He says looking off through the cave.

I spin in my chair and my heart plummets into my stomach and the headache I have been avoiding grabs a hold of my brain in a vice grip. NIghtwing is carrying a young boy maybe five years old. An older woman perhaps in her sixties is walking beside them. Robin is carrying an obviously injured teenage girl on his back. Both of their masks are off. Civilians in the Batcave.

“Before you say anything…” Dick starts. “We could not just leave them there. Mrs. Cleary and Josh were hiding in a closet, they haven’t eaten in days and Amber we found on the side of the road heading back to the manor. I’m pretty sure her ankle is broken.”

What’s done is done. There is no taking it back now. They have seen our faces they are in the cave. I am angry, very angry but I could not turn them out. Things are very different now. Very different. I have to get on the same page as the world outside. We have to be more than just crime fighters. 

“Alfred.” “

Of course sir.”

He leads everyone into medical where Barbara was helping Tim take inventory. I can hear their surprised voices but they all leap into action to help. We have space, power, water and organization. Perhaps there is more that I can do besides search for answers on the virus. Perhaps it is time to let it go and focus for awhile on helping those I can. I stand but before I take a step I am hit with a strong wave of déjà vu. I do not think it is coincidence any longer and I grasp at the threads of a memory or idea I can’t quite reach. Taking a deep breath I push it aside and go to meet our guests.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

New York

I sit crossed legged on the floor staring at the door. I have moved from the window and took up post here. When my Dad walked out that door thirty-six hours ago I knew. Déjà vu, again and I knew. Jackson sat down beside me awhile ago and we both cried quietly. Neither of us said a word. He sobbed into the sleeve of the hoodie my sister had given me I let my tears fall into my lap. Dad had taken the sword off the wall but it would be of no use. I could not imagine such a gentle man pulling it out. The Daisho was my Grandfather’s. He brought it back from Japan on his one and only trip there and was very proud of it. When he died it became my father’s and was displayed on our living room wall. All that remains now is the Wakizashi. I let time slip by until I am pulled back to reality by my brother’s rumbling stomach.

I give him the last four crackers and half a glass of water. I take only the water. There is no more food. And only six bottles of water left. I make my decision but keep it to myself. Jackson and I cuddle up together on the sofa and doze. Shouts, gunfire, and breaking glass from the streets below wake us sporadically but we try to sleep.

When Jackson awakes I am already up and have searched and found everything we will take with us. I emptied our school back packs and put one change of clothes in for each of us. We also each have two bottles of water. We will drink the others before heading out. In my pack there are matches I found in the bathroom. My Mom liked candle lit baths. I also packed the candle. I have changed into a sturdy pair of jeans and I still wear the hoodie. My hiking boots bought last year for vacation are too small so I have rummaged and now wear my Mom’s. I laid out attire for Jackson and am relieved that his boots still fit.

“Where are we gonna go Spence?” His voice doesn’t quiver and he stands straight.

“Aunt Denise in Jersey. We can manage to walk there.” I answer sounding confident.

“What if she’s…”

“We will deal with that when and if we have to Jackson.”

He nods and changes into the clothes I put out for him. We sit and drink our bottles of water keeping the empty plastic just in case in our packs. I go to the drawer in the kitchen and pull out Mom’s fishing knife. The one she had growing up in Colorado and hand it to Jackson. He looks at me and fastens the case to his pants. I walk over and pull the wakizashi from the wall and tuck it into my belt. It is just small enough so I won’t trip over it as we walk. We both stand in front of the door, my hand on the knob.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Ready.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Gotham

The quiet yet intense argument that took place while our new guests oriented themselves ended abruptly. I argued all of the old arguments and was met head on with post apocalyptic logic.

“But the league…” I snarled

“Bruce there is no league!” That was it. When Dick said those five words it finally hit home that the world as we knew it, the world I had been a protector of no longer exists. I had to reevaluate.

I have decided that our masks are useless. Our identities are of no importance in this new version of Gotham. There are no police or prisons or Arkham for us to send criminals. All we can do is stop them when we can and help those who need help. The cave is well hidden. It will not be found even if the manor is searched. Only one entrance from there is functional and it will not be discovered. We still wear our protective gear and use the tech in the lenses of our masks but for those we help. For those we take in. They see our faces. They know our names. I feel like I am finally accomplishing something. We go out into the city. Try and keep riots and fights to a minimum. We try to help where we can and we will offer shelter. We are also scavenging. Food has become a major variable. We may have power and fresh water but we do not have an endless supply of food. We bring back what we can. 

Young Joshua, Mrs. Cleary and Amber stay in the cave. Mrs. Cleary helps Alfred and watches the young one. Amber is still nursing a broken ankle. Though she is seventeen I do not believe she will be able to help outside and I will probably have her assist Mrs. Cleary when her ankle is healed. 

The mystery still looms like a dark cloud but patrolling and keeping control is far better than hiding away with a problem that I am starting to believe has no real solutions. I have not given up on it. I just know that Gotham needs Batman. Now maybe more than ever before.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Just some general creepiness, nothing serious :)

The Ends 4

New York

The cool morning sun casts shadows on the street, Jackson and I stay in them. We are both nervous and on edge. We move as quickly as we can towards the Lincoln Tunnel. Every noise, every imagined voice has us turning our heads, spinning around and startling. We come across a convenience store that has been ransacked but there are a few things left behind. We stand down the street a short distance away shoving BBQ potato chips in handfuls into our hungry mouths. We share the one and only bottle of warm sour grapefruit juice. It is not much of a meal but it is more than we had twenty minutes ago. As we eat leaning against the front of an apartment building a woman walks past in the middle of the street. She is completely naked and mumbling to herself. She looks at us, laughs and runs, her bare feet leaving bloody footprints on the asphalt. We say nothing and continue eating. 

It takes us almost five hours to make our way to the tunnel. We were perhaps being over cautious but we made it. We had to hide as groups of people came close to us. I did not want to chance anything. I do not know how long it will take us to walk the one and a half miles of the tunnel but we have to make it to the other side before sundown. That gives us four hours. It should be easy to walk that distance in no time at all but there is no power. We do not have lights. We will be walking it in total darkness. 

“This is it Jackson. We have to make our decision. We can still go back and hide.” I tell him. He only looks at me like I’m an idiot. “I am serious.” I bend a little so that I am eye to eye with him. “We can go back and hide. We can hope that we don’t die. If we go forward that’s it, there is no turning back, going forward means that from this moment on we will only ever have one option.”

“Which is?” He asks.

“Everything is gone but you and me, we are still here I have to believe that means something. It does mean something! It means we can’t give up, not now, not for one second, no matter what is happening, no matter what the world keeps taking from us we can’t give up. It will never be an option.” My voice is harsh but both of us need this. We have to be more then we are. We won’t survive if we are less.

He looks at me with steely brown eyes, “Never an option. I swear Spencer.”

“Never an option. I swear Jackson.”

We move into the tunnel. We press our right hands to the wall and drag them against it as we walk. We link our left hands as I take the lead and Jackson walks closely behind me. There are cars backed up bumper to bumper all along the road. The smell of decaying flesh is much closer in the tunnel. There is no breeze in here to blow it away from us. I cannot see the other side but I know it is there. We slip further into the darkness but we keep our pace. Never an option.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Gotham

I have set a perimeter patrol. Two teams of two people walking the circumference of the Wayne Manor Grounds. It has been far more effective to protect our little sanctuary then all of metropolitan Gotham. Over three quarters of the world’s population have been wiped out from The Ends. Millions of people lived in Gotham. It has been reduced to thousands maybe now to hundreds. We have taken in fifteen people so far. We have increased our able bodied numbers by eight making a total of thirteen. I plan on bringing in more people. 

The cave, once a centre for all things Bat related is now a home. I can offer a safe place for those who need it. Unused areas of the cave can be worked on to make habitable though it will be less then rustic. It can be done. A storm is brewing in the city. People are gathering, someone is pulling strings but not everyone wants to be a part of it. Some want to survive. Some want a chance at life. That is what we are offering. 

Damian and I are heading into the city to scavenge for food and people.

“I understand helping but bringing in the weak is a strain on our recourses. We cannot hope to maintain an ever growing population within the cave Father.”

His logic is sound and I understand the strategy he is skirting around but we won’t do that. He knows we won’t but he has brought it to my attention as he feels he should. “Even the weak have skills Damian, once we know what they are we can assign duties and in turn our ship will be run more efficiently.” 

“Tt.”

We walk more then drive now in order to conserve fuel as the city begins to rise up before us, three figures approach. They walk with confident strides as Damian and I watch muscles tight, ready. Two women and one man, the woman on the left is waving and shuffles into a jog.

“Hey, Batman, Boy Blunder.” She huffs, blonde hair tangled and matted with a spattering of blood. 

“Stephanie. It is good to see…” I am happy to have come across her but as her companions come into view I stop.

“Yeah, it’s a long story.” Stephanie mumbles.

“Mother!”

“Talia.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Lincoln Tunnel

We have been shuffling along the wall of the tunnel in complete darkness for an hour. Every few steps I think I see a pin hole of light but I am wrong. Noise echo off the tunnel walls distorting sound and location. Several times there has been a growling, deep and guttural. It seems to be following us but I can’t be certain. I am hoping it is someone’s lost poodle. We have heard voices, perhaps they are whispers of the dead that litter the road and fill the stalled vehicles but again we can’t discern where they come from. Neither Jackson nor I have uttered a word but our hands hold death grips upon one another. We are not fearless, we are not strong, but we are determined. 

I see it this time. It is not a trick of my imagination. I see a small white light ahead in the tunnel. I know it is real because we both pause and inhale deeply. The faintest breath of air that is not rotten with the dead brushes our faces. Our pace quickens but is slowed again as we stumble over debris. We still have to be patient. 

We are so close to the end now. I can just barely make out Jackson’s small form in the increasing light. My heart thunders up into my throat when I see it. There is movement up ahead, people rummaging around the opening. I crouch down deeper into the darkness that still surrounds us bringing my brother with me. I squeeze his hand hoping that he sees what I do. We silently decide to wait them out. Seating ourselves where we are we watch. Time becomes our enemy.

The light at the end of the tunnel is starting to tint orange and I know the sun is setting. We will either have to wait the night out here in this tomb or chance being seen by those up ahead.

“Never and option.” Jackson whispers into my ear. He is right, sitting here is useless and the chances of being discovered either way are probably the same. We will move. We stay against the wall as far as we can and keep low. We are both small and use it as best we can to our advantage. The tunnel opening is right there but we can’t simply walk out, they would see us. We hide behind a car as I try to formulate a plan.

“Ya see that Dave? Over there, c’mon!” A man shouts. Another, who I can only guess is Dave, stands up closer to us than I knew. He puts his fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly. He quickly moves off and I hear more footfalls moving away from us. This is it.

“Now!” I hiss. Jackson and I take off running. I let him run ahead, he knows where he is going and I can watch him as he weaves between the abandoned cars.

“Shit!” I can hear the curse and then the sound of running feet again only this time back towards us. “It a couple kids, grab em.” Panic laces through my centre out towards my limbs as I watch helpless as Jackson gets tackled to the ground. Adrenaline, maybe is what moves me as I don’t slow and use my momentum to run headlong into the beast that is standing triumphant over a flattened Jackson. I hit him at full steam and bounce back hard landing on my behind. The oaf stumbles back himself stepping and tripping over Jackson’s feet. He crashes down hard banging his head against the car behind him. He is mumbling and incoherent, the jar to his head slowly gets the better of him and his eyes slip closed. I get to my feet all arms and legs, move towards Jackson and attempt to pull him up. He yelps, pain clearly his motivator. I glance down and his ankle is bleeding and swollen from where the unconscious man had stepped on it. I could help him hop maybe even piggy back him but there is no time. The other men are moving in towards us. I have to get both of us out of here but there is no way out. I can’t fight them I can barely throw a punch. Never an option, those are my own words. I pull the sword and swing it wildly as they move closer. The tip connects with one of the men and I watch in horror as he is separated from his pinky finger but before I can up end my BBQ chips strange sounds put an end to the scene in front of me. Ffffft thump, ffffft thump, ffffft thump. All three conscious men are suddenly wailing in pain on the ground, each with an arrow stuck in their thigh.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Gotham

“Um this is awkward.” Stephanie mumbles as she looks off to the side.

We stand in silence, my muscles still tense, prepared for a fight. Damian’s posture is no different but Talia does not seem to have the air of danger that I am accustom to.

“It pleases me that you are alive habibi.” Talia breaks the silence and addresses Damian then turns to me. “And you beloved.”

She has made her way here for him, in the end this is where she sought to be. That action speaks volumes. Her survival has surprisingly pleased me as well. I have tried not to think of others who were not in my immediate presence. I am still wary and cautious, she is still lethal. “The League?” I question her.

She nonchalantly waves her hand to and fro in a gesture of indifference. “Here, there, dead, dying it is of no matter now.”

Damian looks from his mother to Stephanie then to the man with them. He is attired as any other member of The League of Assassins would be. Damian’s eyes glare at him then turn to Stephanie. “So this would be your lover Fatgirl?” 

Her eyes roll, “Please. Actually this is Hamza, he doesn’t say much.” The man bows his head slightly in greeting.

“Yes, yes he has decided to accompany me here rather then run from his duties.” Talia for one brief moment looks tired defeated but quickly stands tall with her head held high.

The League of Assassins has crumbled along with the rest of the world. I watch Damian, our son as he struggles with his mother’s presence. So much has happened between them, between us. I remind myself once again that there is no Justice League, there is no government, there are no police, there is only us. “Come.” I say as I turn leading them back to the manor.

“Father?” I turn and nod to him. Perhaps it is the small boy in him that craves his mother’s affections or maybe it is the man he is becoming but he accepts this.

“Come Mother. Brown you may accompany us as well.”

“Jeez thanks kid.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mature subject matter. Complete legal and consensual (though kinda dangerous) sex. Sexy times! And of course the standard end of the world suckyness.

The Ends 5

 

Lincoln Tunnel New Jersey

 

Jackson pulls himself up to a sitting position and I stare dumbfounded at the writhing men. A tall blur in a hat rushes onto the scene and rips the arrows from the men’s legs stuffing then away in fluid movements. Jackson is being thrown over the man’s shoulder with a painful protest as he turns to me with a smirk, “Hey kid, now we run!” My brain catches up and I sprint after the man carrying my brother. We don’t get far before we hear yelling and gunfire. The terrifying thing is the gunfire is directed at us. My heart is thrumming so hard in my chest as bullets whiz by that I think it will escape the confines of my body. I am certain I let out a number of undignified squeals in my terror but I keep pumping my legs to keep up with the man and Jackson. We round a corner and keep on sprinting, then another, then another, then I am clambering up a rusty fire escape almost stabbing myself with my still drawn sword and flinging myself through a broken out window. I hit the floor and roll up beside my brother. The man leans over us with his finger against his lips in a gesture to keep quiet. We do. He stands at the window scanning for some time. My brother and I remain silent. The man heaves a heavy sigh and turns his gaze on us. “We lost them.”

He is tall with slightly unkempt copper hair half hidden by a well worn trucker hat. His clothes are actually more than clothes, armor maybe and very red. Arrows are strapped to his back and bow in his hands. He looks very strong. He looks like he could easily hurt us.

“You’re Arsenal.” My brother says barely above a whisper. I know the name, he is a superhero, and he is not dead. I can’t help but stare.

“Yeah… I used to be. Not so much anymore.”

“How are you not dead?” I blurt but in the same breath as I remember that this man just saved our lives. “And thank you, I mean…thank you. I…” I burst into tears. Arsenal flails around helplessly at my outburst and settles on patting my head while Jackson drags himself over and wraps his arms around me. I try to rein it in. “I…I…sorry.” Is all I can stutter out at first. I take shaky breath after shaky breath until my tears have stopped and I think that I can approximate speech. “Thank you.” It is gruff and weary but I look to the man and I am truly thankful.

“It’s all right kid.”

“Spencer Honda.” I say pointing to myself and then to my brother. “Jackson.”

He smirks again and turns to look out the window. “Roy Harper.”

He slings the arrows off his back and pulls a knife from his belt. My eyes widen momentarily but he turns and cuts into the faded curtains that have been pushed away from the window. “I’m gonna fix up the ankle ok Jack?” He asks crouching down in front of my brother. Jackson nods and I move over to help. I shrug off my back pack and dig out a bottle of water to silently hand to Roy. He expertly cleans and bandages the ankle with only a couple of winces from my brother. “I don’t think it’s broken, sprained maybe and cut up. I think we can get by without stitches. Where were you two headed and where did you come from?”

“Our family… didn’t… we couldn’t stay in Manhattan, it’s too dangerous. Our Aunt lives in Greenville.” 

Roy looks sad as he shakes his head. “That neighborhood is burnt out, I’m sorry there is nothing there.” Déjà vu hits hard in that moment. I kind of always knew. “Jack here isn’t going anywhere on that leg for a while. I can hang out a little longer. Give you two a hand until he heals up.”

“Really?” Jackson almost gushes.

“Yeah kid, really.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Gotham

Tensions were high when we arrived back at the cave. Though Stephanie was welcomed with open arms Talia and Hamza were met with a bit more apprehension. They were for the most part walked around and avoided. Damian chose to spend his time verbally harassing Stephanie and Tim as only he could rather than attempt a conversation with his mother. I do not blame him for his behavior towards her. Mrs. Cleary had a moment where I feared for her life. Talia had demanded the older woman bring her something to drink. Mrs. Cleary pointed to where the water was and said. “Help yourself there sweet cheeks.” She turned on a dime and back headed to medical where she had been taking blood samples and checking our residents for overall health. Talia indignantly huffed but proceeded to retrieve her water for herself. I will not lie, I am very nervous having her here. I am not a fool and myself and the others are keeping a close eye on her but I hope. She is strong and skilled and could be an extraordinary asset here as well as she is Damian’s mother. Their history aside, her mistakes aside, the world is not as we knew it perhaps they can build something. I hope. 

We have set up a barracks for lack of a better term in an unused and now cleaned area of the cave. Alfred and Mrs. Cleary painstakingly worked using every inch of fabric the manor had to offer. Each little cubicle has a decent bed roll, blanket and a small pillow that was taken from above. The cubicle walls are old curtains, tablecloths, or sheets. Though they are flimsy they offer some privacy. The original occupants such as myself have moved some of our furnishing down here into the trophy room. Mrs. Cleary has kindly made us fabric walls as well. We avoid the manor upstairs unless we need something, its decimated appearance helps keep the cave hidden but sometimes I walk amongst the ruins of my former life. The ruins of a house where my mother and father had live. 

The large closet of my master bedroom leers open, the doors hanging off the hinges and the contents strewn throughout the room. The bed is rumpled and dust billows up into the faint light the moon casts inside as I sit down. I have no objective in being here. It is simply a moment to remind myself of what was. I toe off my shoes and linger for a moment on the thought of wearing normal clothes more and more often. The armor and Kevlar ready in the cave. I lean against the headboard and cross my ankles. My arms behind my head I stare at the ceiling. I can hear the shuffle, so very soft but she means for me to hear it otherwise I would not. 

She leans her shoulder into the door frame and crosses her arms over her chest and looks off through the window at the moonlight. “You have changed.” She whispers. I have. I had to change to find a place in what this world is becoming.

“And you? Does any of this tragedy affect you Talia?”

She uncrosses her arms and walks slowly, deliberately towards me. I sit up and swing my feet onto the floor where she stops only inches away. “Empires rise Beloved and empires fall. Another will ascend from the ashes of this world and in time it will crumble as well. The strong will move forward, I will move forward.” I am still astonished at how exotically beautiful she is. I hesitate for a moment aware of the danger that seductively entices me but it is only a fleeting second in time.

I place my hands on her hips and pull her toward me. She glides in and lowers her head so that I may press my lips against hers. The kiss is chaste at first but escalates quickly into something dark and sinful and reckless. Her mouth is warm and wet and her skin tastes of sweat and danger. I bite at her ear, nip at the flesh of her neck and lick the sweat from her skin. Her head falls back her mouth open the smallest hiss of air escaping in a sigh. I stand, taller than her and wrap my arm around kneading the flesh behind as I pull her into me, into my need. 

Her movements are quick and precise. She removes my shirt and undoes my pants as I linger slowly pushing the cloth from her shoulders and sliding her pants past her hips so that they fall to the floor. She wears no undergarments. How very efficient, how very Talia. I would take my time but she will have none of that. I allow her to control the moment. 

I sink back down on to the dusty bed sitting with my arms wrapped tightly around her. She kisses me again deeply and pushes against my shoulders until I yield and lay back. She is in my lap gently stroking, her tongue darting out to wet her kiss swollen lips. She frees me from the confines of my trousers and touches me in earnest. I grunt and grit my teeth as she smiles coyly. Swiftly with strategic movements she hovers and sinks down guiding me in. She moans as our eyes meet. Her heat is burning, melting me. She rocks her hips as I move to meet her. The sleek muscles of her body demand to be touched. I run trails with my fingers over damp flesh enticing the goose bumps that run up her arms. We both rush desperate to reach completion. We move as one, filling the air with the small sounds forced from our mouths, a deep well of pleasure pooling, growing, and boiling over. We are like the young, greedy and wanting energized by the act itself, knowing the sin for the first time. She falls forward tightening impossibly around me as she gasps. “Beloved.” I follow into the depths on the heels of her voice and wrap my arms tightly around her slick body as I shudder.

“Talia.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Jersey City

The air is cold and I curl into myself inside my hoodie. Jackson is finally asleep. It was hard for him with the pain of his ankle but Roy had some acetaminophen tablets that helped him. I pull the old curtain that I had covered him with up and tuck it under his chin. I slide across the dusty floor on my bottom closer to the man in red. I do not want to wake Jackson. Roy looks down at me from his perch in the window and shakes his head with a small crooked smile. 

“How are you not dead? I mean I am very grateful that you are not but before, before the worst the news said all of our heroes were dying.” I needed to know, I needed to understand.

“I don’t have any powers. In the first wave it only targeted those who had super powers or something similar that gave them gifts and I was lucky enough to make it through the second wave of the virus.”

I heard him but still it was a revelation. “You don’t have any powers? Then how?”

“Years of training, hard work and a stubborn streak I guess.” He replies glancing out the window again. 

The room in which we are taking shelter is lit only by the light of the moon. We do not want to attract attention. I can hardly contain my enthusiasm at his statement. “Then there is hope for us.” I say out loud but to myself.

“What?” Roy questions me.

“Jackson and I, there is hope that we can be strong, we can survive. We are all that we have left and I want us to survive I want us to be strong. We will not give up. We made a promise that no matter what was happening or being taken from us giving up is never an option. You’re strong. We can be too.” I say the words but more importantly I mean them. I want to be strong and I think that Roy hears that. I am determined. Jackson and I have lost so much but that is it. We will not lose anything else. 

He tilts his head towards me and looks me in the eye. He holds my gaze and I do not back down from him. “Yeah kid, I think you can.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Medical speak and end of the world suckyness

The Ends 6

Jersey City

The span of time starting the last week of March and pushing forward to the last week of April should have been set to music. Maybe a powerful fight song but I digress. I have never pushed myself so hard in my short life. It wasn’t for glory or honor but for survival, survival of a small boy and his only family. I tried my hardest and still came up short. I am more now than I was but I am still not enough. Jackson however has found his calling. All those summers with Grandpa Earl in Colorado have assisted him in transitioning into a force. For me, well I can take a beating and if I’m lucky get in one or two good shots. Roy continually says he is impressed with me but I suspect he has a soft spot for helpless children and feeds my ego. 

Roy Harper, Arsenal, stayed to protect us while Jackson’s ankle healed. I was able to convince him with only a few pleading words and puppy dog eyes to help teach us some skills even if they were basic. Helping Jackson was easy for him. My younger brother spent many summers with our Grandfather who was an avid hunter and outdoorsman. Jackson was already skilled with a crossbow. Roy went out and after several days of looking managed to find one appropriate for Jackson’s size as well as some arrows. Though he could not put much weight on his ankle at first he still practiced for hours. His accuracy has increased from wow your really good to holy shit that is amazing. It was a skill he possessed before the end so in my defense he had a leg up on me. The only skill I had was for picking the perfect lip gloss to go with an outfit. Roy decided that I should learn basic self defense fist. He instructed me on how to break out of holds a would be attacker would use and where to hit. It was basic but a good place to start. It took more time then I would like to admit for me to grasp those basic skills but eventually I did. 

The apartment that we had crashed into and that I later learned was where Roy had been holed up for a short time was too small for the three of us and what we were trying to do. Roy found an old warehouse on the edge of the city just off of The Garden State Parkway and we moved there in the dead of night. Jackson on Roy’s back, me not a foot away. There were packs of dogs running all over the city and they were getting less and less friendly every day. We had a run in with one that night. It broke my heart when Roy put them down. I kept my expression blank and I forcibly hardened my heart. It wasn’t in shame or embarrassment for feeling bad it was because I am too soft. All of my edges are rounded and weak. I put up a wall to hide behind and that wall is made of titanium, it has to be because everything on the other side of it is sweet and kind and soft and gentle. I need that wall.

We have a punching bag hanging in the warehouse. It’s one of the reasons Roy decided on this one. It had a small gym for employees. I spend hours kicking, sweating and grunting hoping to make some kind of progress. I actually look fairly skilled with the kicks that Roy taught me. I just need to get stronger to make them have a sting behind them. “Look Spence, you’re small and lack upper body strength but your legs are strong. I can teach you some basics using your feet. I’ll still show you how to throw a punch but it would be better to stick to what works and I am no swordsman but I think we should work a little on that to unless you just want to toss that thing away.” When Roy said that to me I was crushed and felt even more helpless then I did before but he was right and I am happy that I listened to him but even though I am improving and Jackson is becoming a sharp shooter time is running out. We cannot stay here forever. Roy said he would help us till Jackson’s ankle healed and it has. I am terrified that every day I wake up is the day he is going to leave. 

I practice with the wakazashi stepping harshly and swinging hard as I consider the past month. I am pulled out of those thoughts by Roy’s teasing voice. “I have never in my entire life seen anyone use a sword with as little grace as you.” He laughs.

“Humph, I do not need to be graceful, I need to be efficient.” I snap back at him.

“Well you are but remember…”

“Yes, yes I know, don’t pull the blade unless I actually mean to use it. I understand Roy, I suck.” There is no venom behind my words now just acceptance.

He walks over and throws a strong arm around my shoulder pulling me into his side and squeezes just a little too hard until I squeak then he releases me. “You have done amazing Spence, you are gonna be fine. Let’s go have a talk with your brother ok?” My heart drops to my toes, he is leaving.

We find Jackson in the open bays of the warehouse practicing with his crossbow and he sees it in my eyes as soon as I’m close enough and reacts. “NO way Roy, please you can’t leave. You’re, you’re my friend.”

“Please Roy I know we are a burden but you are the only person in the world we trust. I, I don’t want to lose you.” I stammer on the heels of Jackson’s words.

Roy holds his hands up in front of himself with that endearing frustrating grin he has and waits for us to be quiet. “Jeez guys do I ever feel the love right now.” He takes off his hat, runs his fingers through his hair and snaps the cap back on. “Yes I’m leaving but c’mon how could I leave you two here. We are all leaving. That is what I wanted to talk to you about.”

The relief is instantaneous and I think we may have hurt Roy’s feelings a little by suggesting he would leave us so I apologize. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine small human. Now, here is the plan.”

It makes sense. Star City is really far away so Gotham first. We are going to track down Batman. If Roy thinks Batman is still alive then that means he does not have super powers, holy shit now that is a revelation. Roy also knows Nightwing and the Red Hood so traveling to Gotham is our most viable option for maintaining our status of not being dead. If we push we can walk there in about seven days. It’s not going to be easy, we are not the only survivors and not everyone out there is like Roy Harper. We leave tomorrow with the sun. I am not afraid, my wall is forged strong and is hardening closer and closer around my heart but that does not stop déjà vu from tingling in my stomach again. I close my eyes and concentrate on the feeling trying to pull in whatever it is that feels familiar. It slips away like water through my fingers.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Gotham

The sensation of repetition, that I have already been here and already have done this is eating at me again. This time I simply sat and looked to the screens in front of me waiting for Tim to grab the samples he wanted to show me when the feeling dug its claws in. Something or someone is coming. Moving slowly towards a future I am a part of. I huff out an angry sigh and harshly run my fingers through my hair. 

The Cave is a finely oiled machine now. Every one of the 46 people staying here has a job to do. At first it felt incredibly crowded and tensions ran high but over the course of the past month a fluidity to daily life has evolved. Alfred and Mrs. Cleary run the ship as it were. They maintain our home, our medical facilities and organize. They are in charge of supply and demand, rationing what we have and making the Cave a home. Tim and Barbara though still having assigned patrol duties monitor our cameras and research. Tim still works on the virus in hopes of answers. Dick, Damian, and Stephanie handle patrol assignments and hunting parties as they are now calling trips into the city to find food, medical supplies and survivors. To my surprise and everyone else’s Talia has stepped up as a teacher, assisted by Hamza. She works with everyone on self defense and trains the able bodied in combat. She is relentless and more often than not pushes people far too hard. She is harsh in her words and her actions but people who were once office clerks, barristers, or construction workers are now becoming fledgling assassins. Well non lethal assassins who still need a lot of training but almost capable soldiers, and soldiers they are.

We have a patrol set up around the perimeter of the Wayne Manor grounds and as of yet no one has pushed in or even tried but in the city it is different. What at first were gangs of people using the apocalypse to randomly wreak havoc have now become an organized whole. It has been obvious for some time now that someone was pulling their strings but I was unable to solve that mystery. The priorities were to establish a safe organized unit that was self sufficient. Now that we have succeeded in that I can focus on external issues such as the threat hiding within the city. We have been attacked numerous times on the streets of Gotham by thugs who crave nothing but violence and destruction. The person pulling the strings has been referred to as The King by these degenerates when we politely asked them. His location has been harder to pin point because he moves. He doesn’t stay in one place. We take down a small gang and persuade them to tell us where The King is and when we get there he is gone. What is left behind is not always pretty. He is toying with us. I do not have the same tools to help me in my pursuits that I did before the Ends and The King’s ability to stay ahead of me is frustrating. He is a threat that needs to be nullified before it gets out of hand. Daniel, one of our strongest civilians returned from a hunting party with a broken arm another group member with a concussion. Daniel was a rookie police officer in the GCPD and knew what he was doing out there. The gang that they ran into was far more organized then usual and managed to steal what the group had collected and injure Daniel. We have increased our hunting party numbers to six now and one of us must be part of the group. It is stretching our recourses a little thin but I prefer to keep our little community safe. 

Tim approaches with the samples and I notice the dark circles under his eyes have gotten darker. “After you show me this, go to sleep at least for a couple of hours.” It’s an order I will make sure he follows. “What do you have?”

“I have taken a blood sample from everyone here to check for illness and overall health. Alfred has been an amazing source of medical expertise. After routine blood work I started looking into antibodies that we all most likely produced in order to combat the Ends. I did an Immunoglobin test. It tests for certain antibodies made by the immune system to fight antigens like bacteria, viruses, and toxins. I also did the same tests on the samples from Clark, Barry, Miguel, and Jason. This is what I found.”

He leans over and slides his flash drive with the samples on it into the port and clicks the file. The screen lights up with three separate pictures of the antibodies. He enlarges these pictures like he did with the virus. It feels like an eternity has passed since then. “The first sample is Stephanie’s. I used hers because she is healthy and strong and a good example of everyone here. The next sample is Clark’s and the Third is Jason’s.” He points to the antibodies on Clark’s sample and on Jason’s. They look identical. “These are normal antibodies that would be produced to combat influenza type C. Clark actually had a much higher count then Jason did but I will assume that is because he was kryptonian and Jason was human. These antibodies did nothing to combat the Ends virus.” 

I take in a deep breath and try to be clinical. I try not to think of their deaths but focus solely on the information.

“Now this is Steph’s antibodies.” He taps the screen and her antibodies look exactly the same as Clark’s and Jason’s except for the perfect little geometric square, the same square that was on the virus. “That square is on the antibodies of every single person in this cave. That is why we survived. It has to be selective but why is the question.” 

“Well whoever orchestrated this uses technology that we can’t even begin to understand but did not want to destroy humanity in its entirety because they saw fit to immunize a select few.” I ponder out loud. This problem is an ever growing labyrinth.

Tim sighs heavily before he speaks again. “There’s more Bruce.” He pulls up another file, an image of the same antibodies the others have with the square, only there is more. Inside the square is a circle and if Tim is showing me this he has already taken the measurements, a perfect geometrical circle inside the square. 

“What is that?” I ask

“I don’t know.” Tim answers while shaking his head.

“Who…”

“Bruce, that’s your sample.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic violence *not to graphic* Done to and by children. Some blood and of course like always end of the world crap.

The Ends 7

Garden State Parkway

Is it weird that I kind of like the dull throbbing pain on the right side of my jaw? It probably is but it really isn’t like it sounds. I took a solid punch from some crazy guy who thought it would be a good idea for him and his friends to take our stuff. Roy, Jackson, and I jumped into action and I have to say that I planted my foot in that man’s nose hard enough to break it. Roy took care of three men and Jackson ended up losing a arrow as the arm it was stuck in took off running. 

I am spinning around in circles looking for more men to kick as the pain in my jaw spurs me on. “Come back here assholes!” I shout.

“Easy there eye of the tiger they’re gone.” Roy almost laughs. I now understand the term adrenalin junkie. The hormone is running rampant through my veins and it is a very serious rush. “That jaw is gonna hurt when you settle down. Here.” Roy tries to sooth as he hands me a bottle of water that is actually chilled from a pool of runoff not far away. I take it, open it, chug half of it and then put the cool bottle to my jaw. I take a few deep breaths and I can feel my body start to relax. This is not new to Roy his reaction is all business. I am an overzealous crazy person and Jackson is detached. Both Roy and I have spoken to him about this. When he is faced with high stress he seems to shut down in order to process the events. It doesn’t last long and we never leave him alone. It is not a normal activity for a ten year old to put arrows into other people and each one of us deal with stress differently. 

“You alright over there Jack?” Roy asks as he slowly walks towards my brother.

Jackson’s eyes lock onto Roy then to me and he is back. “Yeah I’m ok.”

“Well we better move along in case those guys had more friends. There’s a turn off another two miles down we can take and find a spot for the night.” We listen to Roy and begin gathering our things to get ready to move out. The sun is hanging low in the sky and I prefer to walk with the light.

This is day nine of our trip to Gotham. It is taking longer than expected but then again everything always seems to. It’s not like we have to punch a clock or write an exam, the end of the world has granted us a schedule free existence. We have run into trouble eight times this being the eighth. Mostly it is people thinking a group of three consisting of two kids is easy pickings. Well they get a really nice introduction to our friend Roy and we aren’t slackers either. We did stumble across a group with about twenty or more. We hid in the shadows until we could move around and bypass them. We did overhear them talking about getting to Gotham. Apparently there is a King there or someone they want to join up with. I looked at Roy with a question in my eyes but he only shook his head in the negative and shrugged. Eventually we were able to sidle off the road and stayed there until we knew the group was well ahead of us. That was just too many people to even try to tangle with. 

The cuisine on this trip has been interesting if anything else. We manage with water. Luckily it has rained three out of the nine days. Having to boil it is a nuisance but at least I have matches. Food is becoming increasingly harder to find the farther out on the parkway we get. We rummage through cars but it is dirty work. So many bodies and things you just have to forget the moment you see them or it could pull you down into a darkness of the blackest black. Roy has managed to bag us three squirrels and a groundhog. As those go the squirrel is my new favorite barbeque. Our forward momentum is slow but it is still forward.

We are approaching the turn off that Roy had mentioned earlier when he stops and holds his hand up silently telling us to stop. Jackson and I follow Roy’s orders and stand quiet and motionless. “We’re being followed.” His voice is barely above a whisper but I hear it. My heart starts hammering in my chest and I am surprised I can hear the running footfalls over it. “Run!” Jackson and I take off without question at Roy’s command. We hear the gun shots and I feel the air shift around me as bullets whiz by but we keep running as we were told to do. I am terrified for Roy alone back there but if he ordered us to run he has good reason. I trust him. We round the bend of the turn off and several buildings come into view. I choose one at random and head that way, Jackson right beside me.

I register that I have stopped moving forward before I feel the pain. A large hand has a hold of my long hair and pulls so hard it stops my momentum and I grunt in pain. The hand wraps and twists tighter into my hair and turns me around painfully. The man is dirty and has dried blood under his nose and over his chin. I broke that nose earlier. He uses his tight grip in my hair to pull my face up to his, my toes barely touching the ground. I swing a punch but his hold on me prevents me from getting any power behind it. I beat wildly on his chest and shoulders but I might as well be a fly. I hit the ground on my back hard and the man is on me, pinning me down with his hand still wrapped in my hair. He smiles darkly promising me pain and worse. I hear the thump. I see the man’s eyes widen and I see the blood bubble out of his mouth before he falls on me. Standing behind him is Jackson, his crossbow still at his shoulder his face blank.

I struggle to move out from under the weight and as I do his hand still tangled pulls large chunks of my hair from my head. I finally shift out from under him and move in one step towards Jackson. I push his bow down and turn his face to meet mine. “Jackson, Jackson, hey, you ok?” I get no response. I hear footfalls approaching again and when I turn defensive I am relieved that it is Roy. There is blood spatter on his clothes and face and a deep wound on his left shoulder that bleeds freely. He looks from my disheveled bleeding scalp to Jackson’s expressionless stare to the man lying face down in an expanding pool of blood and registers the situation. 

He grabs my brother by the shoulder and turns him away from the man and towards himself. “Jackson, Spencer is alive because you acted. We are still alive, we are still here. Jackson, Jack, Jack!”

“Never an option.” The words leave his lips softly and float away on the breeze but he is back. He sees us. His sobs are heart wrenching and Roy kneels down and wraps himself around my brother and does not move until Jackson’s breathing evens out.

Roy struggles to stand with his injury but puts a hand on Jackson’s shoulder and looks to me. “Never an option.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Gotham

There is a commotion coming from the vehicle entrance of the cave, shouting and heavy running footfalls. “We need help, she’s hurt!” All eyes turn towards the voice and people jump into action. The hunting party is back and it is them calling for help. Moving swiftly behind them is Hamza. He is bleeding from a head wound but in his arms he carries an unconscious Barbara. Her arm dangles limply, her head lolls backwards and blood drips down her leg. Dick is the first to reach him and Hamza passes the injured woman off and falls to his knees breathless and panting. Stephanie goes to assist him to his feet and lead him to medical. Dick lays Barbara on the examination table and Alfred and Mrs. Cleary run in and glove up. The assassin sits on the bench to the side. Alfred begins working and Mrs. Clearly forcefully shoos everyone out of the room and slides the curtain concealing them within. Tim is called in moments later. After a short time Hamza limps out with a bandage on his head and makes his way to where I am sitting anxiously with Dick.

“What the hell happened?” Dick asks with venom.

“We pushed too far into the city. We were too few in numbers. They overtook us. The young woman was stabbed in the thigh, I am afraid an artery was cut. She bled so quickly. I am sorry.”

I nod to the man in understanding and place a firm hand on Dick’s shoulder until Hamza walks away. Dick leans forward wringing his hands and grinding his teeth in his anxiety. 

It takes some time but Mrs. Cleary walks out and straight towards Dick. There is blood smeared and drying on her clothes that we know does not belong to her. She tilts her head slightly to the side and smiles serenely. “She is stable.” The older woman speaks directly to Dick. I can see his body relax, muscles letting go of the tension and stress. “Her femoral artery was nicked and she lost a lot of blood but we have managed to stop the bleeding and close the wound. She has had a transfusion and we will monitor her for any sign of infection.” Mrs. Cleary explains to both of us. We are lucky to have her especially since she is a retired nurse. “You go on ahead in Richard you can sit with her if you like.” Her voice is soft and reassuring as she speaks to Dick. He leaves me sitting there and rushes in to sit with Barbara but Mrs. Cleary remains. “Bruce.” Her voice is much sterner and businesslike now. “We have no more blood. We gave Barbara the last of the O neg, all that we have left is one pint of A positive.” That is not good. O negative is the universal donor and by far the best supply to have on hand but any supply is better than none. 

“What do you suggest Mrs. Cleary?” I ask her because I know she already has an answer.

“Well, I am O neg so I will donate as much as I can. I would also like for you to make it mandatory that everyone able to give does immediately. We cannot chance being caught without. We are low on antibiotics and pain meds as it is.”

“I will pass that along right away. Will you be able to organize as I send people in?”

“Of course Bruce.” Her smile is back and she pats me on the shoulder.

I spend the next hour collecting people and sending them her way. Mrs. Cleary does not disappoint as the line moves efficiently in and out of medical. It has been a long day which started with a five am patrol for me and now that the crisis has been averted and our ship is running full steam ahead once again I want nothing more than to lay flat on my back. I catch Talia’s eye in that moment. She had been leaning against the stone wall watching me. I nod my head very discretely towards the manor and make my way to the remnants of what was once my bedroom. I know she follows. It will be some time before I sleep but a shiver of anticipation runs up my spine and I smile dangerously to myself.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: A little bit of fists and feet and an arrow. Nothing graphic. I sympathize with Damian

The Ends 8

Just off of The Garden State Parkway

I have managed to unclothe Roy from the waist up. It was not an easy feat since by the time we got here our adrenalin had run its course and we could all feel the full force of our injuries. Roy’s wound being much more serious than I at first thought. We have made it into a small shop, pet groomers actually. Jackson was able to find several towels and the clean water in the back of the toilet tank was still there. That is the good news. The bad news is that Roy was shot. The bullet went clean through which Roy tells me is actually a good thing. That means I don’t have to try and dig in the wound for any foreign objects but it has taken quite a bit of time to stop the bleeding and Roy is looking a little pale. I wash out the wound with water and I shred one of the towels to a more manageable size and make a bandage that we tie on. It is crude but hopefully it will do the trick. Jackson has found some clean t-shirts as well in the store front. We now each own an I *heart* Dogs shirt. I slide the clean cotton over Roy’s head and help him into it. Folding some of the left over towels I position him and gently push him back to lie his head down on them. He winces but manages.

“Are the doors locked? Windows? You two ok?” Roy asks quietly.

“Yeah it’s all taken care of, we got this, and you get some rest ok. Please Roy.” I plead. His eyes slip closed and I go to find Jackson.

He is watching out the large window in the darkening store front with his bow slung over his back. “Are you ok Jackson?” I ask again even though I have already asked several times.

“Yeah Spence, I’m good I promise. How are you?”

“Fine, worried about Roy.”

“Mhmm, me too.” He answers. “I’ll take first watch you go get cleaned up Spence. I will yell if I see anything.” I nod agreeing. I am so proud of my brother. He is so much stronger than I could have ever imagined. 

I check Roy before I do anything else. The bandages are tinting pink but I am not alarmed yet. He is sleeping but he is very warm to the touch and this concerns me. I wet a shred of towel with water and fold it neatly over his forehead. He stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. I pull the candle out of my pack and light it so I can see where I am going. I grab a towel and make my way through the back of the shop. In the area where they groomed the dogs I find some soap and scissors as well as clippers. All of these things are designed for dogs but I am not picky. Moving into the small bathroom I use a small amount of water to wet the towel and wash the dirt, sweat, and blood from my face. I hold my hair in a ponytail and hack it off with the scissors, letting the long strands fall to the floor. It is a vanity I do not need. Today it made me weak. The clippers still hold a charge to the battery and I hope it is enough to finish what I have started. They hum to life and I glide them over my scalp leaving the finest of bristles where my silky dark brown hair had been. I am more than ok with this. I do not feel any sentimental longing. I actually feel free. I rub the towel over my head vigorously to remove the loose hairs, grab the candle, and make my way out of the bathroom.

“That’s a nice look for you Spence.” Roy mumbles as I move closer to him. He is to warm and pale for my liking so I refresh the cloth on his forehead and help him take a few sips of water. 

“Thanks Roy, you look lovely too.” I am being cheeky. Roy makes a strained laughing sound before I lay my hand on his head. “Back to sleep with you.” He doesn’t argue and drifts off. I follow shortly afterwards until Jackson wakes me up to take my turn at watch. The night is silent. We are almost there.

We wake with the sun and gather our things. It is only a few miles to the turn off we need to take then east for a short distance and finally a secluded road that will lead us up to the gates of where we are going. We will not have to actually enter the city of Gotham. Roy has told us the directions four times now to make sure we know where we are going.

“Wayne Manor.” He says weakly.

“Wayne? The billionaire Bruce Wayne?” Jackson asks.

“That’s where we are going.” Roy answers.

“That guy is Batman?” I asked rather stunned. Roy is non committal on answering that but I take his silence as a yes. That is another revelation. My Mom used to love the tabloids and he was always in them. Everyone has their secrets but that one is a doozy. 

We head out and Roy struggles from the get go. Our pace is slow but Jackson and I flank him and keep steady. I took a quick look at his wound before we left it is very red and very angry. I do not doubt that it is infected. The warmth of his skin is evidence of a fever but we have no more acetaminophen tablets. We have no medication at all. We need to get to Wayne Manor. Roy needs help.

The day drags on and we have to stop frequently so that Roy can rest. Jackson and I are giving him our water because he needs it far more than we do. I force him to eat a few bites of the canned pasta that we open but I can get him to eat nothing more. This has to be the last time we stop. We are so close. We are just turning on to the road that leads to the gates of Wayne Manor. The urge to rush is hard to fight. Roy’s condition is deteriorating fast and I am legitimately scared for him. I am checking his wound often and the last I checked it had began to spread red lines down his arm. That is blood poisoning and will kill him if we don’t get him some real help. He needs antibiotic. I am not a doctor but my father was and I am not a naïve child. This could kill Roy. 

We walk in silence very slowly down the deserted road. There are no abandoned cars here, no bodies lining the shoulder of the road and the smell is of fresh green things thriving in the warm May weather and fresh rain. In the distance I can see the gate but Roy stumbles and falls to the ground even though Jackson tries to catch him. He was just too heavy for my brother to manage. We both try desperately to pull him to his feet but he is struggling and incoherent. He looks at me with the most pained expression I have ever seen on anyone’s face. “Lian, I’m sorry.” 

I don’t know who that is but obviously she was important so I touch Roy’s face and say, “Its ok Roy but you have to get up. You have to keep walking. Please.” It works. He struggles to his feet and stumbles for a second. Jackson and I move to either side of him. We each throw one of his arms over our shoulders for support. Roy is everything we have. He has become, no he is our family. We will find a way to carry him if we have to. He would do it for us. 

Both Jackson and I have paid attention to what Roy has taught us so when we hear the bird call we know it is not as it seems. The gates to Wayne Manor are hanging loosely on their hinges and we have just barely crossed over the threshold. I can see the home itself now, we are almost there. We both move in tandem and sit Roy down leaning against the elaborate iron work of the gates. Jackson pulls his bow and strings an arrow. I crack my neck and focus. I focus just like Roy taught me to. I take deep even breaths, I see my surroundings, and I listen. The two men come from behind us. Jackson turns and in an instant fires his bolt landing his target in the fleshy part of the upper arm. The man hits the ground wailing. The other man rushes me with a baseball bat. I duck the swing and swipe his legs out from under him. I jump quickly with a boot to his head rendering him unconscious. I move to the other man with Jackson’s arrow in his arm and plant my foot in order to knock him out as well. We were lucky and we don’t linger there pressing that luck. We do not have time to ask them questions or explain ourselves. Jackson walks over to the unconscious man and pulls the arrow free and stuffs it back in his quiver. We both rush over to Roy and help him back to his feet. We shoulder his weight and return to making our way to Wayne Manor.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Wayne Manor

“Father?” Damian calls awkwardly from the hallway.

I am roused from my sleep and am disoriented for a moment. Talia stirs beside me and sits up. We are in my old bedroom within the manor. It appears that we have been asleep for several hours. Damian is outside of the door with his eyes downcast. “What is it?” I ask. If he has come up here knowing that I am with his mother it must be of the upmost importance. 

“We have a perimeter breach. Johnson and Blake are unresponsive. The intruders will be in the manor in moments.”

I jump into action. I do not for a moment think of the awkward situation that I have placed my son in as I stand naked and gather my belongings. “Do you have a com?” I ask Damian.

“Yes of course.” He answers

“Send Dick and Tim out immediately”. 

“They are already on scene.” He mumbles into his com to confirm and then nods to me. 

I rush to dress and pass Damian making my way to the main entrance of the manor. Talia lazily gets up and begins to dress as I leave. 

I pull open the main doors to reveal the fight. A man leans unconscious on the step head hanging down obscuring his face as Dick and Tim are engaged in a fight with a small girl. Just a short distance away is a very young boy with a crossbow. He is firing arrows as quickly as he can nock them. The girl struggles to dodge both Dick and Tim but manages to ungracefully elude them for a moment. She is caught in the stomach by Dick’s foot and falls to her knees. The boy trains his sites on Dick who is standing above the panting girl on the ground. His eyes are cold and focused and I know he will let the arrow fly. Both Dick and Tim stop raising their hands and wearily watch the young boy. 

The man leaning against the step mumbles incoherent for a moment then pulls the correct words to his lips. “Nightwing. Dick.”

Dick turns abruptly and we all focus on the man for the first time. 

“Roy? Oh Shit Roy!” Dick yells as he forgoes anymore battle in order to attend to the man on the step.

“Leave my kiddos alone.” Roy manages before slipping into unconsciousness.

Dick is leaning over Roy and Tim is standing over the girl as the young boy lowers his bow. The girl breaths in deeply, shuddering with pain but still pulls herself to her feet. Her hair is shaven close to her scalp a large scab on her head can easily be seen though the bristle. “Please help him.” She mumbles. “Please help Roy. He was shot, blood infection, and needs antibiotics.” She catches her breath and moves away from Tim over to Dick so that she can be closer to Roy. The young boy is silent but moves to be close to the girl. They resemble each other and I draw the conclusion that they are siblings. 

The young girl looks to me, pleading. She recognizes me. “Please help him Batman.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: No serious warnings just inside the cave stuff. Roy's gun shot wound and grumpy pants Damian

The Ends 9

Spencer

They moved Roy through the run down mansion and then deep underground into a cave. Not that I have seen many caves in my time but I’m fairly certain this one is exceptional. There are a fair number of people down here and they all turn to stare at us as we enter. Roy is brought to a room that is well equipped with medical supplies and devices. The room and most likely the whole cave seems to have electricity. An older man and woman rush in and start helping. I can see them peel my bandaging off and I wince at the same time Roy does. The woman sets an IV and I am hoping it is fluids and antibiotics. She then whispers to the older man and he moves over to Jackson and me.

“My name is Alfred, Miss?” The man questions.

“Oh, Spencer, this is Jackson.” I answer patting my brother’s shoulder.

“Well then Miss Spencer is either of you injured? You seem to be in some discomfort.”

“I got a hard boot to the gut that’s all, no real damage.” I say rubbing my stomach.

“Very well, wait here.”

Where else would we go? We sit there silent watching them work on Roy for what feels like an eternity. There is a curtained off area in the back corner of the room and I can see a woman’s silhouette through the cloth. This room must be a makeshift hospital. Eventually after almost an hour and a half we are waved over to see Roy. He is awake, still pale, but I can see the focus back in his eyes. They have cleaned his wound and bandaged his shoulder properly, the relief I feel is overwhelming. The fluids they have given him helped dramatically and I am sure he has had a dose of pain medication.

“You good Roy?” Jackson asks.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m gonna be on my ass for a bit though so guys you will have to behave yourselves.” He laughs out painfully. “You guys can trust these people ok. I promise.”

“OK we’ll behave.” Jackson answers in a small voice. Roy gives me a wink and I squeeze his hand with a tiny smile.

“Master Bruce would like to speak to the both of you, please follow me” The older man who introduced himself as Alfred requests of us. I am curious as to why he is so formal but before we leave with him I get permission from Roy. He nods his head and Jackson and I follow the older man.

The cave is massive and there is any number of things in here. Jackson pulls my sleeve pointing off in the distance to what appears to be a Tyranosaurus rex. You don’t see that every day. People stop to stare at us as we walk by but I think it is out of curiosity and not malice. They stare at us, not the dinosaur. Alfred leads us to an area with several desks and large computer screens, camera monitoring stations and stacks of paper are organized everywhere. Bruce Wayne is speaking to one of the men who stopped us at the steps of the manor and a boy around my age. When he sees Jackson and I he dismisses the boy. The boy stops directly in front of me before he exits and looms down. He is taller than me but most people usually are. His eyes are intensely blue and intensely serious as they lock with mine. I do not back down from this posturing and I try my hardest to look dangerous.

“Damian.” The man who is Batman says calmly. “Tell Amber I would like to see her.” The boy steps aside and walks away. Bruce Wayne looks at my brother and then to me before waving us over to where he is seated. 

“This is Dick Grayson, you met earlier, outside, and I’m Bruce.” Grayson smiles wide at us and nods his head before Bruce continues. “I will speak with Harper as soon as he is up to it but for now I am very curious to hear your story. You have been out there for at least two months, where are you from?”

“New York sir, Manhattan, upper east side.” I respond. 

“And you were there with Roy when the virus hit?”

“No, we met Roy in Jersey City.” 

He looks puzzled for a moment but continues his questions. “So you and your family fled New York?”

I take a deep breath, hold it for a second and then let it out in a heavy sigh. “Our mother and older sister died in the second wave of the virus. Our father went out for supplies and never returned. We made our way out of New York through the Lincoln Tunnel that is where we met Roy. He bailed us out of a jam and we stayed with him in Jersey City for a while before making our way here.”

“You both made it out of New York alone?” It was a question but I know I did not need to answer it.

“Amazing, what are your names?” He asks with a slight upturn of his lips that is not quite a smile.

“Spencer and Jackson Honda sir.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

I am not sure whether to be impressed or sympathetic to the two children standing in front of me. I know what the interior of Gotham was like during the epidemic and after in the chaos, I imagine New York was no different. The luck they had to have to come across Roy Harper is extraordinary but they managed to get themselves out of Manhattan. It would have been a tremendous struggle for anyone. I am intrigued. “Have either of you had any survival training previously?”

“Ummm, no. Jackson used to go hunting with our Grandpa but that’s all. Our Dad was a podiatrist and our Mother was a dentist. We were fairly ordinary New Yorkers.” The girl Spencer answers a little embarrassed.

“Well you both seem pretty capable to me.” Dick puts in.

“That’s cuz Roy helped.” The young boy interjects.

Damian has returned with Amber following right behind him. I will entrust them to Amber but I am anxious to speak with Arsenal. “Spencer, Jackson, Amber will show you around and get you situated with a bunk and supplies, you may visit Roy in medical whenever you wish.”

The little boy nods and his sister says a quiet thank you as they follow Amber away from me and out into the cave. Damian leers menacingly at them and I notice the girl does not shrink from his glare but gives him a side eye and holds her head high. These children are very interesting. They are almost familiar. Almost. 

“Problem Damian?” I ask. Both Dick and I wait for his answer.

“’Tt’ they stormed the gate and engaged in a fight. We are allowing them entrance?”

“C’mon it’s not like we gave them much of a choice outside. I didn’t know it was Roy, they had to defend themselves. Besides it was easy enough to stop them.” Dick responds in my stead.

“The boy was more than willing to put an arrow in you.” Damian reminds Dick.

“But he didn’t. They have survived out there since the beginning. We know Arsenal and he trusts and obviously cares for these children. The decision is made.” I state ending any further discussion on the subject.

Damian has made his point and accepted my response. “Very well.”

I stand and make my way to medical. I am anxious to have a conversation with Roy Harper.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Spencer

I believe I had leafed through my mother’s tabloids one too many times. Bruce Wayne felt very familiar and it bothers me the same way I keep having déjà vu. My head lifts slightly as I realize who the angry boy was. I have seen him in those tabloids as well though certainly not as often. He is Bruce Wayne’s son. 

“Then is he?” I mumble softly.

The girl Amber laughs beside me “Starting to put who’s who together?” She is around my age, maybe a year or two older, appearing neat and clean with her long hair braided down her back. My brother and I must look incredibly wild and dirty not to mention the smell. I know there is a smell. Amber begins talking and I am reminded of my best friend Jasmine as a pain settles in my heart for a moment. I lock it up behind my wall. “So you guys were talking to Bruce, Dick and Damian right. Well I assume you know Bruce or at least your really hot injured friend does.” Both Jackson and I look at her with slight frowns. 

“Roy.” Jackson states flatly.

“Yeah him.” Amber waves her hand in the air and then continues. She lowers her voice a bit and leans closer to me as if she is about to gossip. “Dick is Nightwing.” She smiles knowingly but does not stop there. “Damian is Robin. And Tim, the other one who went to ‘greet’ you outside is Red Robin. Batgirl is here to but Barbara is in medical recovering. She was injured not long ago. Spoiler is the really pretty blonde girl. I think she is on a hunting party.” Months ago this illusive information would have thrilled me, now it makes a strange sort of sense and leaves me feeling safe. Safe in the same way being with Roy in Jersey City felt. 

Amber clears her throat and puts a serious face on. “Ok time for me to do my job. Welcome to the Bat Cave!” She throws her arms out at her declaration. “The area we just left is off limits unless you are summoned. That is very important to remember. The manor itself above is accessible if you wish but it is in ruins. There is a library that has minimal damage but really there is nothing of importance up there. You have already been to medical and know where that is.” She raises her arm motioning towards the dinosaur a distance away. “That was, is the trophy room. The family has their bunks there.” We walk to a more open space where a makeshift soup kitchen is set up. Amber pats the large plastic container marked drinking water. “This is here for convenience but there is running water in the bathrooms and showers. You may help yourself to as much water as you like. The food is rationed however and you will be given a weekly meal list.” Jackson looks confused and Amber smiles softly at him and pats his shoulder. I think this girl might be alright. “Alfred and Mrs. Cleary, who you both already met, make schedules for meal times and extras weekly. This way everyone is feed well.” Jackson nods smiling at the girl. She points down a stone passage that clearly has a light at the end. “That’s the remainder of the bunks. There are forty six, well forty nine with the three of you who live here. But that is not where your bunks will be. You’ll be with me.” She leads us past the bathroom which is more of a locker room with showers and hot water, oh hot water and then past a large open training room. We are told that we will have to have a medical exam and then be trained in self defense to be assessed before we are given a job. Everyone has a job. We finally stop in front a smaller room. “This used to be a weight room but that stuff has been moved over to the bigger training area. Everyone under eighteen is in this room. There are only five of us and that includes the two of you. Josh is seven, Eric is twelve then there’s me and both of you.”

The room is sectioned off with fabric walls. Amber pulls the fabric away from one bunk to show Jackson his new living space. I am directly across from him. There is a decent bed roll big enough for two, a blanket, a pillow and an empty cardboard box in both bunks. The box I am assuming is for personal belongings. “Spencer, Jackson one more thing.” Amber calls from the far end of the room. “You are responsible for your own clothing. I wash mine in the bathroom sink it’s easiest and then hang it here.” She pats an old wooden clothes rack. “Also there are some extra clothes if you need them in this box. They are from upstairs and I’m sorry Spencer but all of it is rather boyish.”

“That’s fine, can we have a shower?” I ask longingly.

Amber smirks waving her hand in front of her nose and says. “Yes please do.” I can’t help but laugh and Jackson chuckles as well. My brother and I root through the box of clothes for something clean and Amber gives us each a towel, half a bar of soap, a toothbrush, and a plastic comb. She looks from the comb to my head and smiles brightly before speaking. “I guess you don’t really need this. You pull that look off though.”

“Thanks, its post apocalyptic chic.” Jackson rolls his eyes at my lame joke but Amber laughs. I move towards the bathrooms in anticipation of the most luxurious shower I will ever have.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

“The small humans are not gonna like this.” Roy says after agreeing. We have spoken at length about his time in New York and then with the Honda children. He had planned on making the journey to Star City anyway but his plans were side tracked when he started travelling with the boy and the girl. “Your right though, it is safer for them to stay here then to try and make a trip of that length.” He remarks. He will be leaving as soon as Mrs. Cleary gives permission. It will be a bit of time yet but we have begun to plan. I will give him a bike, one that is good on fuel as well as food, water and weapons. If Oliver is still alive perhaps a form of communication between here and there can be set up. Either way Roy needs to do this for himself as well as for me. “Those kids are capable Bruce and tough but please keep them safe.”

“I will Roy.”

“Keep us safe from what?” We both turn our heads and find Spencer standing a few feet from Roy’s bed. She is now clean and wearing some of Damian’s or Tim’s old clothes.

“Hey there Eye of The Tiger, I’m going to have to make a little trip…” Roy begins.

“Star City?” The girl interrupts.

“Yeah Spence. I gotta go.”

“I know, but I don’t have to like it. You’ll come back right? You’ll come back for us?” Her eyes are wet but no tears fall.

Roy smiles broadly at her. “You know I will kiddo.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Consensual, adult, sexual situations. Woo hooo Bruce and Talia sexy times. Everything else is G or PG and of course it is still the end of the world

The Ends 10

Spencer

Jackson put up less of a stink about Roy leaving then I thought he would. I guess I still see him as the boy from New York. He is not that person anymore, neither of us are. He’s not happy about it nor am I but Roy has to do this. He has to go to find out for himself and Bruce needs to know if the Green Arrow is alive. I would go with Roy in a heartbeat but he would never allow it. He has found a safe place for us, well as safe as anyplace can be now. He doesn’t want to risk us taking that long trip. I know it is to protect us and I love him for it. I laugh to myself. I love Roy Harper. He is father, brother, friend and I am exceedingly grateful to have met him. This means I am going to miss him but not yet. He’s still here which is why I am sitting on his bed in medical because Jackson has the only chair telling him about our morning. 

“Talia Al Ghul is terrifying.” 

“I’m actually not gonna disagree with you Spence.” Roy answers while shaking his head.

“I liked her.”

“Yeah but she was nice to you Jackson.” I spit at him.

We were summoned to the training room early this morning by a man named Hamza. He dressed all in black and I won’t lie he appeared to be a bit intimidating but was surprisingly pleasant. He led us to the training room where we met Talia Al Ghul. She is an incredibly beautiful woman who also happens to be extremely dangerous and mean. She had us run through self defense techniques that luckily Roy had already taught us. Apparently we were successful but sloppy. She had my brother use his crossbow, praising his accuracy and obvious devotion to the weapon. I spared with Hamza and was informed that my skills were adequate for someone with no training but lacked any real power behind them. Ms. Al Ghul then questioned me on my sword. The wakazashi still hung on my hip even though I never drew it. I took Roy’s lesson to heart. I would never draw it unless I meant to use it and let’s be honest I sucked rocks. I told her the truth.

“Well then I would like to see just how pathetic your sword skills are girl.”

She walked over to the far corner of the training room and came back with two bokken, wooden training swords. I had seen these before at my grandfather’s. He never used any of the weapons he collected but they were displayed throughout his home. My Dad used to roll his eyes at his father’s collection. She tossed me one and I fumbled but caught it before it hit the floor. 

It was humiliating. I knew from the moment at the Lincoln Tunnel that my sword skills were far from glorious but I had no idea just how bad they really were. I walked out of the training room with bruised knuckles, bruised ribs, and a bruised ego. 

“That bad Eye of the Tiger?”

“Oh yeah, that bad Roy.” I hang my head. Roy rubs my arm and soothes me but I can see the smirk on his face because we both know just how bad I am with the sword. 

“Excuse me, I am sorry to interrupt your visit but I need to see Spencer and Jackson for their medical exam.” The woman who helped Roy yesterday when we arrived interrupted quietly. 

“K gotta go Roy.” I say as I pat his hand. Jackson says a quick see you later and follows me. Roy has been moved to the back of medical. There are two beds in the back sectioned off with fabric just like the bunks. One belongs to Roy the other to the woman who is Batgirl. We follow the older woman up to the front of medical and sit in the chairs we sat in yesterday as they worked on Roy.

Mrs. Cleary introduces herself to us formally and we are each in turn brought over to sit on the examination table. It’s a pretty basic examine. She asks about allergies, previous injuries, and any medical conditions that she should be made aware of. Both Jackson and I are healthy and luckily have no health issues. I do mention the weird déjà vu that sometimes bothers me just in case I have vertigo or something. Mrs. Cleary is not concerned. She draws several vials of blood from both of us to test for the basics and to determine what blood type we are. At the end of the examine she hands us each a black pouch. “Now these should be on your person at all times. They attach easily to your belt. It is your responsibility to keep it stocked. When you are in need of replacements please see either myself or Alfred. Now go on dears, take a look inside.” 

Jackson and I follow orders and dig through our bags. The bags are about the size of a fanny pack that I had seen tourists wearing all the time but these are in sections, three small and one large. In the smaller sections there is first a small projectile weapon that is ironically shaped like a bat, then two marble sized orbs that Mrs. Cleary explains are smoke bombs and shows us how to detonate them, and lastly an epi pen. The larger section holds first aid paraphernalia, bandages, gauze, tape, a needle and thread, and disinfectant. Jackson and I both hold the last items we find in the pouch tentatively in our fingers and are not sure how to react. I can feel the heat bloom on my cheeks and I think Jackson might try to run.

“Oh, you don’t need those dear.” Mrs. Cleary says as she snatches the two condoms from Jackson’s fingers. The relief that spreads across his face is immediate. I hold mine out for her to take but she smiles knowingly at me. “No, no love you tuck yours back in the pouch.” I tuck them back in quickly and try to pretend that I am a mature responsible adult who is not blushing profusely because she was just holding prophylactics. 

“Do you have the samples for me Mrs. Cleary?” A young man I now know to be Tim Drake walks in and asks the nurse.

“I do.” She smiles brightly at him. She passes him the labeled vials of our blood and hands him the paperwork that we have brought from Ms. Al Ghul. Mrs. Cleary has added her scribbles to the papers as well.

“I’m Tim.” He says moving towards us, reaching out politely to shake Jackson’s hand and then mine. His grip is firm and his hand is warm and oh my god he knows I was just holding condoms. He takes his samples and leaves.

“Yes dear he is very handsome.” Mrs. Cleary winks at me.

“Wha, no, I huh?” I eloquently respond. She chuckles and shoos us out of medical with instructions to go and get something to eat.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

“NO!”

Talia sighs but stands firm before countering. “Yes.”

I have received the paper work on our newest arrivals, Spencer and Jackson Honda. It appears that both are quite extraordinary individuals, one in Talia’s eyes and the other in Tim’s. Tim has examined their blood samples and found that Jackson has the same unique antibodies as every other survivor. Spencer however has the extra circle within the square that I possess. Her and I are the only ones as of yet to have this anomaly. Tim feels that further study into her and I must be done. Talia was impressed with the boy’s skill and maturity. She has explained excitedly of his talents. She has also recommended that both be placed on patrol and hunting party duty. I am not confident with this decision.

“The boy is skilled with his weapon of choice. He is determined and shows initiative and potential in combat.” Talia states excitedly.

“But he is only ten years old.” I offer as an argument.

“Yes he is young, however he is far more skilled then eighty percent of the men and women you send out every day. Had the League known of him he could have been developing and honing his talents. Damian, our son was lethal at his age.”

“Damian is an exception Talia and this is not the League. This boy has had minimal training and is still just that a boy. I can’t in good conscience…”

“He can be trained more if you wish and kept with his sister in outside excursions. I assume you are ok with the girl being assigned to these tasks.” She interrupted.

“Yes she is old enough and if you feel she is capable then I agree, but I am not thrilled about the boy being sent into potentially dangerous situations.” 

“You concede then beloved?” She asks with a mischievous smile on her lips. She steps forward closing the distance between us in the small area of my bunk. 

“I am not conceding Talia.” I almost whisper tilting my head down to look more closely into her eyes. “I will have him patrol for a time before I even consider him being sent out into the city. You may train him if you like but…” Here I pause thinking I will dissuade her with her distaste for the girl. “His sister must be trained with him.”

She presses her body against mine, her hand covering me through my pants. “Very well, I agree to your terms.” She whispers before leaning up and pressing her warm soft lips to mine.

The walls of fabric are all that separate us from the others. There is no privacy but the compulsion to be inside of her is far too overwhelming and I do not care. I urge her down to the softness of my bedroll and wrench her pants swiftly from her. I kneel between her thighs and press a finger inside. Swirling, twisting, and teasing, my thumb flicking and rolling above. Her eyes are closed and her breath is ragged but no other sounds leave her. When she arches her back up off the linen I can wait no more. Still kneeling between, I lift her hips with both hands and push in hard. I hiss through my teeth at the tightness consuming me and piston with no mercy. Her eyes widen in surprise momentarily before her lids droop. She licks her silent lips and watches me as I take her. I follow the trail of a bead of sweat as it slowly runs between her breasts. Dropping her hips I shift and cover her with my body, leaning down to lap at the bead with my tongue. I quicken and a small moan escapes from her before she regains control. She is tightening obscenely around me. She finishes silently holding her breath before muscles relax and still but I am not finished with her yet. I lift a leg and angle deeper, harder and bite down on the tender skin of her breast. Her breath draws in at the pleasurable pain and my movements begin a more erratic rhythm. Once, twice and I am letting go. My muscles twitch and spasm as a long heavy sigh pushes out of my mouth onto her skin. I collapse on top of her smaller frame for a moment as my nerve endings finish firing. 

I roll beside her and we both lie sweaty and satiated on the cool linen of my bunk. I can hear voices a small distance away but am far too relaxed to care. “There is coldness in his eyes and a sharp edge to his quiet demeanor. The boy could be so much more but I will defer to you on this as I believe his sister is the sun he orbits around and I no longer wish to break the bonds that people hold dear. I have grown tired of seeking those things. I am… Happy here.” I look to her surprised. I pull her close and press a soft kiss to the top of her head. 

“Yes.” I whisper to her. She knows me and my simple reply is enough.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There are no warnings for this chapter save for the ordinary and a sad Spencer

The Ends 11

Spencer

I don’t know what to do with myself. It has been four weeks. It has been one month. Roy leaves tomorrow. He has been up and about for two of those four weeks but Mrs. Cleary would not budge on his recovery time. I thank her silently every day. He is with Bruce right now and probably will be for at least a few hours going over their plan, the maps, the supplies, and the attempted devices for communication that may or may not work. Jackson is with Talia above ground learning the long bow. That woman really likes him and I am still unsure if that is a good thing or a bad thing. She is not overly fond of me and my ineptitude as she reminds me often. I really want to punch her face in the face but I am more than sure that I would end up in… Well I probably would just end. 

So here I am up in the manor making my way to the library. I discovered the large room three weeks ago and have come here often. It is early evening and the sun will not set for hours so I have lots of light to read by. The warm June air has made the halls of the manor stuffy and close. Walking into the library I move straight to the window and throw it open. A soft breeze blows in and runs through the soft bristles on my head. I turn and throw myself on the dusty couch. The book I left there is gone and I look around frantically trying to locate it. It is on the small table to the left stacked under other books. Someone else has been here and tidied up. The old blanket has been neatly folded and the one decorative cushion fluffed. The small stack of three books consists of A Tale of Two Cities, The Lord of The Flies and the book I had been reading, The Call of The Wild. I put the other two books back where I found them and make a note to read The Lord of The Flies next. How very appropriate. I open the book and find that instead of the folded page I had bent to mark my spot there is a piece of paper with a neat script written on it. ‘Do not fold the pages’. Ok fine I won’t. I take out the paper and begin reading where I left off but manage only a couple of words before my thoughts distract me.

Roy is leaving at first light and I will not lie, I am heartbroken and terrified. I have no idea how I will deal with his absence. I know both Jackson and I have worked hard and can reasonably take care of ourselves but the three of us are a family. We do not have someone like Roy here in the cave. I have made friends with Amber and I often patrol with Daniel or Dick. The men are kind and both have interesting ideas of humor but even though I like them they are not Roy. Jackson has Eric. The two boys get along very well and of course Talia just adores him but again neither is Roy. We lost our family to the Ends but we made new bonds and now it is trying to take that away from us. I am being selfish, I know that but I am still only sixteen and every once in a while I am allowed a moment to be a spoiled teenage girl. I let the moment pass, wipe the not tears from my eyes and begin reading my book again.

I hear the footsteps as they approach. I am not sure if it is Roy’s insistence of always listening or the person in question is making their presence known but I am aware of them. I look up as he walks into the doorless library. He does not look at me as he walks over grabs one of the books on the table and sits down on the opposite end of the couch. I have my back leaning on the arm and my legs stretched out along the cushions. I have to pull them in or my toes would be touching his hip. He opens his book and in greeting says. “Honda.”

“Wayne.” I try to imitate his arrogant tone but I sound forced where he is nothing but natural. Damian Wayne I am pretty sure dislikes me only marginally less than his mother does. Since I have started patrols I have spent a decent amount of time with Dick who apparently just absolutely adores Damian. His Batman to his Robin. I am not exactly sure what that means. Dick has tried to throw us together because we are so close in age. I am slightly older, which is the only thing I have over him. I would have played nice but the first thing the boy said to me was, ‘You are very small’ followed by a very annoyed sounding ‘Tt’. I can’t be certain but I believe my face offends him in some way. I tried to start a conversation but he did not hold up his end so it was awkward and he obviously did not want to speak to me so I left him alone. Dick continues to encourage me to talk to him and does not believe that Damian dislikes me. He will speak to Amber. Damian even calls her by her first name and asks how she is. So I am positive that the boy just does not like me.

“It would be appreciated if you did not fold the pages of the books and used a proper book mark.” He speaks without looking up from his page.

“Yeah I got the memo.” I respond waving the note he obviously left for me. We sit in silence again. I could get up and leave but I was here first. That is very childish of me but hey I am still a child. I focus on the page but his presence is distracting. He closes his book and turns slightly towards me.

“Your brother and you have been assigned to this week’s hunting party.” I look up surprised and mildly confused. “I will be leading it.”

“I was under the impression that I, we were not ready.” I state. Talia had made it very clear that I was a still a hot mess when it came to my skills or lack thereof. “How?” The question slipped out of my mouth. 

“I requested the both of you on my team.” He says flatly once again opening his book “I expect there to be no complications.” He pauses like he is unsure if he should say more. “I believe you have been underestimated.”

I did not see that coming.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

“Blake, Johnson, Forbes, Honda, and Honda.” Damian had calmly rhymed off his choices for this week’s team and I stared dumbfounded at him for a moment. I immediately assumed he was coerced by his mother but when I turned to glare at her she was as shocked as I was. Roy simply smirked giving his approval silently. I did put up an argument. I had no problem sending the girl but the boy was so young. Damian’s response convinced me. “You are all so very concerned about the well being of the boy that you overlook the obvious. Simply put, his age is of no consequence. He has the skills needed to do this job and the morals to want to do it. In your worry for the boy you have forgotten his sister. The older Honda is capable. Need I remind you of her gate storming? They are a well oiled unit working well together and not utilizing such a team is just stupidity on our part.” He was right. They are a team. Alone they are adequate. Together they are more. They are survivors.

Roy has no qualms about sending them out. “They need to get out. They have been out there for months. They can’t just stop being what they have become.” He points out.

I wrote their names on this week’s roster and as I put the pen down a wave of déjà vu hit me so abruptly that I am motionless for a moment. I could feel the eyes in the room on me and I mentally shake off the feeling. It did not go unnoticed. Tim lingers as one by one the others leave to their bunks to the kitchen to the library. It is getting later in the evening and the cave is winding down. 

“It was nothing Tim, just déjà vu.” I tell him as he leans against the desk arms folded across his chest staring at me intently.

“Does that happen often Bruce?” It is more an accusation then a question.

I scowl but he is unaffected. Sighing heavily I answer. “Occasionally, but I don’t see how that would have you concerned.”

“Actually I wouldn’t be but I have noticed that reaction in you often enough to raise my curiosity.” Nothing gets by Tim. “And Spencer mentioned having that feeling often to Mrs. Cleary during her medical exam.”

That I did not know and I am immediately curious. It is a new mystery within the mystery. “I guess we will have to look into this then.” 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Spencer

The sun is just peeking up over the horizon as Jackson and I watch Roy load the saddle bags on the motorcycle. They are stuffed to capacity. Bruce and Dick are out here as well running over last minute concerns and supply checks. The hollow feeling in my stomach is familiar. I felt it the morning my Dad left to find supplies when we were still in New York. It’s not déjà vu which is of some comfort. It is just my own fear. Roy will be fine, he’ll make it to Star City and he will come back for us. It’s the in between that is going to be hard. 

“Hey small humans, come here for a sec.” Roy says as he waves us over. “I want the two of you to be on your best behavior, understand?” He is smiling broadly at us. He hunches down to be at eye level with Jackson and pulls my brother into a tight hug. Jackson returns the embrace and tries to look manly while doing it. 

“Hurry Back ok Roy.” Jackson tells him in a small quiet voice. 

Roy ruffles his hair and turns towards me. “Spence…” I lunge at him, wrapping my arms as tight as I can around his waist and bury my face in the fabric of his shirt. He squeezes back just as tightly. “I’m proud of you Eye of The Tiger. Keep Jack in line ok. I’ll be right back.” He plants a quick kiss on the top of my bristly head and lets me go. 

“Roy…” I don’t know what else to say. 

“Me to kiddo.” Roy says to my unspoken words. 

He climbs on the bike, kicks it on, turns his head and gives me a toothy grin with a wink and he is gone. I stand there watching the quiet road as the sound of the motorcycle vanishes in the wind. I stay even after I can no longer hear it. The others have returned to the cave. Jackson leaves a short time after them but I stay just a little longer watching as the sky brightens. I can feel the tears prickle at my eyes and the sob clench in my throat but I allow neither to happen. I take three deep breaths and steel myself. I move to go back inside and notice I was being watched. Damian looks at me without expression, turns and walks inside leaving me to make my way back alone.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

Roy has left. I am confident that he will make it to Star City and I am hopeful that Oliver is still alive. The communication system we were trying has failed one hundred miles out. We have lost contact with him but we knew that was probable. The Honda children appear to be taking his departure in stride and have resumed their regular activities. I watch as Talia slaps Spencer’s hand with the wooden sword. The girl is improving. As soon as they are finished Tim would like to have a chat with both her and I. We have a few things in common both of which are completely uncommon.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Spencer is awkward. Bruce is awkward. Everyone is awkward. I am awkward

The Ends 12

Spencer

It’s not unlike being summoned to the principal’s office. I sit in a straight back chair facing the large computers of the ‘Bat family’s’ control room. There are desks and screens and devices that I couldn’t even possibly understand. This area of the cave is off limits unless you are summoned and summoned I was. Bruce is sitting in the large black chair facing me, his back to the screens. Tim is leaning against the big desk beside Bruce looking at me intently. I swallow hard and move my eyes from one to the other. 

“Am I in some kind of trouble?” I ask with a slight tremble in my voice. I don’t like the sound of that so I sit straighter in my chair and try to look stronger then I am. 

“No, no trouble at all.” Tim answers with a smile. He appears amused at my concern. Bruce is far more stoic meeting my eyes with steely blue as he clasps his hands in front of him. His elbows slide to his knees and he leans in to speak.

“Spencer, you and I have something in common and we believe if we can understand what that is then maybe we can prevent something like the Ends from happening again.” I stare blankly letting that register. I have something in common with the Batman. I can’t even begin to imagine what that could be. 

Tim turns to the computer screens and taps a few keys bringing up images. He explains the virus and the antibodies in a way that I can understand then leaves only one screen alight. “On this side is Bruce’s sample on the other is yours.” He points out what even I can see at this magnification. They are identical. “For some reason this anomaly is only present within you and Bruce. There are no other similarities in any of the work ups I have done but there is one curious thing. Both of you have mentioned the sensation of déjà vu manifesting regularly.”

My stomach drops down as if I am free falling. I am frightened but am unsure why I would be. As if to mock me or perhaps to make me appear foolish the sensation of déjà vu runs through me. I have to close my eyes and breathe deeply to shake it off. Bruce appears calm but unaffected, while Tim seems to be intrigued by my reaction. “I, I don’t understand how s something like that could be umm important at all.” I manage to stutter out.

“That’s just it Spencer it shouldn’t be. It is not a medical condition it is a small emotional response the body has. That is what I am trying to understand and I hope that you and Bruce can help me.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

Spencer sat and listened attentively to all Tim had to say. She agreed to do as Tim asked and left with the note book. I sit, pen in hand with my exact same notebook open to the first blank page. Spencer and I are to write down every feeling of déjà vu we can remember and what we were doing when it happened, then we are to continue documenting the experiences for another two weeks. When that time has passed Tim, I and the girl will meet again to go over our entries. Tim will of course be studying them further but for now that is my task at hand. 

Perhaps sitting at the computer is not the best location for me to be writing in my personal déjà vu diary. I feel a bit silly doing this and there are far too many distractions here for me to concentrate. I decide to make my way to my bunk for some quiet and privacy.

“What time is it Father?” Damian questions before I leave as he taps a pencil on one of the desks.

I look to my watch and reply. “Ten after eight.” He abruptly stands leaving me alone and baffled. I am certain that something is weighing on his mind. I have been aware of this for some time now but I will not probe. I will allow him to come to me with his concerns when he sees fit. I fear that he has reservations about the relationship his mother and I are treading lightly into. I cannot think of anything else for him to be preoccupied with as we are running smoothly and have had very little problems from the ‘King’s’ men in Gotham. Perhaps I should be the one to broach the subject with him. I inhale deeply and decide that yes that is exactly what I will do. I will drop off my diary in my bunk and then I will discuss the new relationship between Talia and myself with our son.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Spencer

Sitting on the dusty couch, leaning my back on the arm, knees pulled up to support the notebook I write down all I can remember. I hope this helps but to be completely honest I have no idea how the strange feelings of a random girl could possibly prevent a second wave of a planet wide epidemic but hey who am I to argue. Damian has been here in his spot on the couch for a few minutes. It is a daily thing now. I go to the library every evening that I am free around eight and soon after he shows up. It has been that way for days now but tomorrow my brother and I are members of our first hunting party, lead by no other then Damian himself. Maybe he is just sizing me up to see if I am ready for the task at hand. He seemed to thinks so when he requested us. 

I realize that I am openly watching him when he lifts his head from the page and turns to look directly at me. “What is it that you are writing? I did not picture you as an overly sentimental diary writer.” He asks this with a smirk on his face. 

I am fairly certain he is making fun of me but I answer nonetheless. “I have been asked to keep this journal by Tim. He feels that it is important.”

“Drake? Tt.” Damian hisses with disdain. I am not sure but perhaps the two do not get along very well. There is a scowl on his face that makes me want to giggle. Not that Damian is funny or funny looking it is just that he is so openly aggrieved by my mention of Tim. He looks like an angry old man. “What does he have you writing? Mindless drabbles?” 

“No, no nothing like that. I have some kind of antibody anomaly that I share with your father. I have been having weird episodes of.” I pause for a moment and consider telling him no more but decide to go on. “Déjà vu. I know it sounds really strange but Bruce has had them too. No one else has reported them so Tim wants us to write down what we can remember and keep track of any further episodes. It all seems pointless to me but I won’t argue with Batman.” I watch as Damian receives the information and nods letting go of whatever it was that was angering him. I have no idea how to read this boy. None! 

I go back to my writing but I am nervous and cannot concentrate. The meeting with Tim and Bruce had me on edge and I will admit to having no shortage of nerves regarding my excursion into the city tomorrow. I want both Jackson and I to impress but I also want us to be safe. The first page of my déjà vu journal is rubbish so I rip it out willing to start over. Damian looks to me when he hears the paper tearing and raises an eyebrow. I can feel an insult brewing.

“Was your love poem to Drake not to your liking? Perhaps you should mention his eyes.” Damian mocks. I can’t help but laugh. He is joking and it was funny. In response I ball up the torn paper and chuck it at his head. He doesn’t react and allows it to hit him in the ear. I see him smile for the first time since I have met him. 

We both halt as a presence makes itself known in the doorway. Bruce is standing there with a puzzled expression on his face. He greets us with a quick hello, walks to one of the book shelves, grabs a book and bids us good night. 

“Should I not be here?” I ask Damian before I can think my question through.

He looks to me exasperated. “Do not be ridiculous.” The moment is gone and the two of us are back to awkward silence. He returns to reading his book and I to writing in my déjà vu journal. A half an hour goes by before I close my note book and stand to leave. 

“I will see you tomorrow morning.” Damian says without looking up from his book.

“Yeah in the morning.” I reply awkwardly as I walk away from him.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

Damian was not in his bunk. He was not in the training room, the showers, or getting something to eat. Talia did not know his location and he was not scheduled for patrol around the manor grounds. I was at a loss as to where he could be. I found Dick helping Mrs. Cleary and Alfred moving medical equipment around in the medical room and decided to ask him if he had seen Damian but before I could do that I was handed a heavy box that needed to be stored on the very top shelf of the pharmaceutical cabinet. The medical room was being reorganized so that two more beds could be added making a total of four. The space was large but not infinite and needed to be reworked in order to accommodate the additional beds. I spent perhaps fifteen minutes helping move boxes before I was able to ask Dick if he knew where Damian was.

“What time is it?” Dick asked when I questioned him on my son’s whereabouts.

“Eight, thirty five.” I answer after checking my watch and wondering what the time had to do with my question.

“He’s probably in the library.” Dick finally answered raising his eyebrows and smiling. I nod and leave Dick to finish helping move the final few boxes.

It is not unusual for Damian to be in the library as he is a well read young man and filling his free time with reading is something I believe he would enjoy. It is Dick’s unusual smile at his whereabouts that have me questioning Damian’s behavior of late. Is he isolating himself? Is he affected by his mother and me? I am unsure. I leave the cave and make my way up into the manor and towards the library.

I hear the voices before I reach the room. One distinctly female the other is Damian’s. “Was your love poem to Drake not to your liking? Perhaps you should mention his eyes.” I hear my son say in a teasing tone as I come to stop in the doorway of the library. I watch as Spencer laughs and throws a balled up piece of paper at Damian. It lightly bounces off the side of his head as he smiles broadly. Damian’s smile is a rare thing and I am surprised at the scene I am witnessing in front of me. I would stay and watch the two interact but they have both noticed my presence. Damian and Spencer both turn to look directly at me as I struggle to appear nonchalant and not surprised. 

“Hello.” I say quickly to cover up the fact that I was watching them. I move with precise movements to a bookshelf and grab the first book that I see and turn around to leave. “Goodnight.” I mutter as I leave the room as fast as I can. I am halfway down the hall before I allow myself to register anything that has just occurred. My son is not preoccupied with Talia and my relationship, not at all. I stop for a moment to let that sink in when I glance down at the book I have taken from the library, British and American Tanks of World War Two by Peter Chamberlain and Chris Ellis. “Well that should be an interesting read.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is some violence done to and by those underage but nothing graphic. Also there are deer hunting references so if that bothers you tread carefully other than that same old end of the world sukciness and gross old canned tuna.
> 
> I am adding a side short of what is happening with Roy so if you are interested please read. :)

The Ends 13

Spencer

I pull my t-shirt down over the body armor I was issued. It is far lighter and less constricting then I imagined it would be. I slip into my hoody. I have not worn the gift from my sister since we arrived at the cave but now that I am heading out there again it feels right to wear it even in the late June heat. Jackson is waiting for me, holding the fabric of my bunk entrance open with his crossbow. I turn and face my brother with a crooked grin and a crack of my knuckles. “Let’s go.”

“Your sword?” Jackson asks nudging his head in the direction of my bedroll. My sword lies neatly across my pillow.

“I’m not going to use it Jackson, why bother bringing it.”

“You have to carry a weapon and unless you have taken the training with fire arms you better take your sword.” My brother points out. He’s right. I grab the wakazashi and attach it to my belt beside the pack issued by Mrs. Cleary. We leave the comfort of our bunks behind and make our way through the cave and down the long stretch of the vehicle entrance to meet up with the rest of our team. 

Blake and Johnson are eyeing us up as we approach. They were both on patrol duty when we arrived with an injured Roy. It was a little awkward at first in the cave since we handed them their asses that day ‘we got really lucky’ but both men have been nothing but kind to us. “Hey kids.” Johnson says smiling down at us.

“Good morning.” We all turn to look as Forbes now joins us in the warm early morning air outside of the cave. I don’t know her very well but Jackson does. She uses a compound bow and practices often with my brother. Blake and Johnson carry guns. I could not tell what kind they are or anything about them for that matter but I do know that they use rubber bullets and in order to carry a firearm a person must be trained by Daniel. Daniel was a police officer before the Ends and has taken on that responsibility. Apparently there was a lot of debate over the use of guns before we arrived at the cave but the issue had been resolved by the time we arrived. 

There are two four wheel all terrain bikes with small trailers hitched to them parked and ready for us. We will be able to fill the trailers with whatever we can find and still have the maneuverability through the ruins of the city with the bikes.

“Forbes, Johnson, with me. Blake, take Jackson and Honda.” We all turn as our team leader arrives immediately mobilizing everyone into action except for me. My feet stay where they are. I knew. I knew that the team leaders wore their uniforms. The suits were armored and combat ready but it was surreal to see the red, the cape, the green boots, and the bright letter R. He wore no mask but he was Robin. I knew. I did but this was the first time I had seen any of them in uniform and I gaped. “Honda, move!” Damian barked. I shook my head and jumped in the empty trailer with Jackson behind Blake. Damian glanced at me his expression unreadable then turning he started his bike. “We are searching the west side, stay close, do not wander off alone and keep vigilant.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

“What are you reading?” Dick asks as he sits in a desk chair and rolls towards me. I hold up the book for him to peruse the cover and he scowls. “You plan on building a tank?”

“No. I grabbed it from the library last night. I just took the first book I seen.” Dick’s eyebrows raise in question. I do not feel like discussing this but I have a suspicion that he knows more than he is letting on. “I found Damian last evening in the library but he was not alone.”

Dick rolls back to the smaller desk and turns to a screen clicking the mouse muttering. “Mhmm.”

“Dick.” I say lowering my voice an octave.

“What? I just know that they both go up there to read. I have no knowledge of anything other than that. I promise.” He responds. “Is there a problem with that?”

“No of course not. I just assumed he was adjusting and had reservations about Talia and me so I was a bit surprised to learn that he had actually made a friend.” I say honestly.

Dick’s eyes are wide and round as his jaw slackens and falls. “Wait, what? You and Talia?”

I run my hands through my hair. I guess I am going to have to have that talk after all.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Spencer

The big buck’s ears twitch as he lifts his head, nostrils flaring. He is moving, gone before Jackson can let the arrow loose. “Don’t worry about it kid, you already got one.”

“Yes but the buck was so much bigger.” Jackson replies to Blake shaking his head in disappointment. The west side of the city was quiet and beginning to be overrun with wild life. There were white tail deer grazing and rooting on what green they could find. Jackson had already managed to take down a decent sized doe when he spotted the big buck. Though Jackson was practiced in the art of hunting Blake and I were not. I had helped chase the deer with Grandpa Earl but to no success. Blake and I were just too loud. Our footfalls had startled the buck and Jackson never had the opportunity to take a shot. We had left our bike about two blocks back with the deer, a jar of processed cheese spread, twenty four rolls of toilet paper, some beef jerky and a case of motor oil to try and bag the buck. 

The sound of Damian’s bike grows steadily louder until it is in sight. He comes to stop as a smiling Forbes jumps off the seat from behind our team leader. “Check it out, twelve cases of canned tuna. Nice haul. How did you guys do?” She gushed.

“We got us a deer thanks to our very own mini version of Arsenal.” Blake bragged. Jackson caught my gaze and we both smiled sadly missing Roy acutely in that moment. Jackson was bombarded with thanks and pats on the back from Forbes and Johnson. He even received a ‘good job’ from our esteemed leader. Our congratulatory occasion was interrupted by gun shots. Just far enough away to not make us duck for cover. Actually about two blocks away. 

“Shit!” I curse knowing that the shots came from exactly where we left the bike and our loot.

Damian presses his index finger to his lips silencing us and waves for the team to follow him. I am careful to watch my footsteps and keep them quiet as I move as fluidly as I can which is in no way even close to the stealth like movements of Robin. We approach the street where we left our bike from an alley and use the shadows to stay concealed. There are eight men I count, one throwing the bullet riddled corpse of another dead doe into our trailer and the others ambling about fearlessly. They are taking our find and Jackson’s kill. I can feel the blood rush through me and a heat in my chest begins to burn as my anger rises. We need that. We have people back at the cave who need these things.

Damian moves closer and pulls our group in tighter so that he can speak in barely a whisper. “These are The King’s men. Go back the way we came and take the bike back to the cave. You do not have to stay. Go.”

“What are you going to do?” I ask in a hush.

“Get our belongings back.” Damian moves closer to the street pressing himself against the dirty bricks of the building flanking the alley as our team turns and begins making their way back away from The King’s men. I stand there in the shadows stunned that they are leaving. They are leaving him to do this alone. I glance at my brother and an unspoken communication dances between us. Never an option.

Kids?” Johnson hisses at us.

“We are staying.” My brother answers him turning to follow Damian. I slide myself in between the two and press tightly against the wall as I watch the others move away only glancing back quickly before they vanish around the corner. The bricks smell of garbage and are sickeningly warm from the heat of the day. 

Damian measures us with his eyes before giving us orders. “Very well. Jackson up top.” He points to a fire escape on the opposite side of the alley. Jackson slings his bow over his back and quietly climbs the metal until he has the perfect vantage point. “Honda, follow my lead and focus.” He tells me. His gaze lingers on mine for a long moment before he walks out of the shadows and on to the street drawing the attention of every gun there. I stand firm at his side. 

“Hehehe look at this folks its one of those pesky little birds and he brought a friend to see what we have in our trailer.” One of the gun men laughs out with his head tilting creepily to the side as he sweeps his hand over the deer.

“I believe you are mistaken. The bike, trailer, and its contents belong to me and my colleague.” Damian answers in a deadpan.

The man then smiles showing black decaying teeth as he raises his gun. “I don’t think so kid.”

It happens fast and slow all at the same time. Jackson from his perch shot and hit the creepy teeth man in the hand. His gun fell from his grasp as he wailed in pain, arrow piercing his flailing palm. Damian was in motion before the arrow hit its mark and I moved shortly after. My leg swung out high to the side and my foot caught a running man in the chin. He stumbled and ran head first into a light post falling to the ground, a small pool of drool growing on the asphalt. Adrenaline now coursed through me bringing with it the euphoria of the fight. I turned as if in slow motion and seen the baseball bat arcing through the air. Time sped up as I leaned back feeling the rush of fast air skim by my nose. I had dodged. Spinning I planted my foot in the man’s thigh and jumped back. I was tackled from behind by another assailant and hit the ground hard, my breath blowing out of my lungs upon impact. I would have been pinned if not for a well place arrow that made my attacker roll off of me only to stand and run in the opposite direction. I stood and looked around getting my bearings and observed Damian skillfully handling the other men. There were a few arrows on the ground and one in an unconscious man’s buttocks, Jackson still in his perch. Damian had his arm pulled back about to let fly a brutal punch on creepy teeth man when that damned baseball bat was once again arcing through the air. This time I was a fraction of a second to slow and it clipped me good near my right eye. The pain stung, my head throbbed and I roared. My foot connected with the bat’s wielder in the stomach knocking the air out of him. I didn’t hesitate and use my momentum and weight to topple him to the ground. I straddle him and swing wildly until he is a dazed and bruised mess. My knuckles are split open and dripping blood as I stand and spin to find another enemy. Jackson is climbing down the fire escape and Damian is poking an unconscious man with the toe of his boot. I am breathing heavy and swinging my head from right to left in swift jerking motions ready for whatever comes next. Jackson approaches calmly and stands beside Damian who was watching me with interest.

“And that is what Roy called the eye of the tiger.” Jackson said shaking his head. “She gets a little worked up.”

Damian moves towards me as my breathing slowly evens out. “Honda, I believe you will need stitches.” I gingerly touched my face below my eye where Damian was looking and instantly feel the sting. My fingers come away warm and wet with blood.

“I’m fine.” I say a little embarrassed.

“None the less you will get checked out. Let’s head back before any of these imbeciles wake up.”

Jackson sits on the edge of the trailer where his deer and the one The King’s men shot now lie. I stumble as I try to make my way to sit beside him and feel strong hands grasp and steady me. I am lead to the bike and helped onto to the seat.

“I might be a little dizzy.” I say once again embarrassed at my own weakness.

Damian climbs on the bike in front of me and starts it. We lurch forward and the world tilts and spins. “You might want to hold on Honda.” Damian says seriously. 

I wrap my arms around him as we move and anchor myself to the bike. I can feel the heat of his body and smell the sweat and blood and boy. I rest the uninjured side of my face against his back and can feel his muscles move under his clothes. My head is spinning and I think that resting here is a good idea, it feels nice. I close my eyes.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

Johnson, Forbes, and Blake return with only one bike and without the Honda’s and Damian. I question them and am left concerned. I understand why Damian would stay and try to reclaim what was gathered. We are dreadfully short of food. We have planted vegetables on the grounds but it is only early in the summer. We need food now. The cases of canned tuna that were brought in will most certainly help but a deer. That would be more then I could hope for. Still facing The King’s men seems like a big risk. I trust Damian. If he felt like he could handle it alone then he can. I admit that I am not surprised that the Honda’s stayed. It is just simply in some people to stand up.

“Where is Damian? I thought the party had returned.” Talia asks me as she looks around the cave from the common area where I stand.

“There was some trouble. Damian sent the others back. He and the Honda’s are handling it.” I answer sounding unconcerned. Talia is far to cunning to be put off by my nonchalance. She raises an eyebrow and opens her mouth to comment when we hear the second bike approaching. 

One of the reasons we use the four wheelers is their size, it is much easier to get into tighter spaces with them. Damian pulls the bike right up into the common area of the cave slowly and stops. Jackson jumps off the trailer that is carrying two dead deer and their loot and quickly movers towards his sister. She is sitting behind Damian resting her head against him. Jackson reaches out to steady her as Damian slides off placing his feet on the floor. 

“Tell medical we are on our way.” Damian orders as he now holds Spencer steady. Jackson immediately takes off towards the infirmary.

I move with Talia right behind me. Spencer is slowly swinging her leg over the seat, Damian holding tightly so she doesn’t fall. There is a deep gash under her right eye and the swollen red welt reaches all the way up into her bristly hair line. It is already bruising. “She took an unlucky hit with a baseball bat. It was an amateur mistake but she performed adequately.” Damian spoke more to his mother then to me. Talia crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked disappointingly at Spencer. The girl tried to stand on her own but wobbled and sat back down on the leather of the seat. 

“I will have to see that she repeats her basic training.” Talia says sternly and walks away. Though harsh and uncaring she has not dismissed the girl. How very curious. 

I reach out to help Spencer stand. She warbles between Damian and I for a moment but steadies enough for me to loosen my hold. She looks up at me, a drunk little smile on her lips that falls away to a frown, her good eye squinting. She turns her head excruciatingly slow to look at Damian. She watches him as he adjusts her arm around his shoulders in order to help her walk. Her head tilts up as he straightens some. “You have really pretty eyes.” The words fall out of her mouth confidently before she stumbles losing her balance again. Her eyelids droop a little and as Damian begins to move her forward I do not mention the slight tint in his cheeks. They shuffle forward, Damian supporting her and guiding her to medical. She is mumbling something that I can’t quite hear but I can see a small smirk flutter across my son’s lips for an instant before his scowl returns. I turn to begin unloading the trailer when I hear Damian huff amused and speak in the distance.

“Shut up Honda, you are going to regret that.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: A very small amount of blood, some serious embarrassment, some pillow talk and....
> 
> "Neganed": Please see The Walking Dead season 7 episode 1

The Ends 14

Spencer

My head throbs dully but is far better than it was yesterday. I am sitting up now that Mrs. Cleary has given the go ahead and I watch as Alfred places water on the bedside table and leaves quietly. They recently added two more beds here in medical and did some renovating. It feels just like a real hospital room. Amber sits cross-legged on the end of my bed talking. She really has a gift for it. She came in shortly before Alfred carrying my déjà vu journal, sat down and proceeded to gossip. She pauses when she notices that I am staring down at my journal confused.

“Damian told me you asked for your poetry book.” She tells me looking from my eyes to my hands. 

“My what…” I began as a foggy memory started to play out across my vision. I could feel the heat of color rise into my cheeks at the befuddle memory. I am fairly certain that I told Damian he had ‘pretty eyes’. It was completely inappropriate to say to my team leader even if it is true. I hoped he would brush it off and assume that the blow to my head was causing my brain to misfire but another memory is sifting its way out of the fog. I am now more than embarrassed, I am mortified. I bring my hands up to cover my face and hiss in pain as I touch the battered right side. My hands drop and I am left exposed to Amber’s scrutiny.

“Spencer, you ok? You did just get Neganed. Do you want me to get Alfred or Mrs. Cleary?” Amber states with concern.

“That will not be necessary.” We both turn toward the voice, Amber smiling and I wishing for a hole in which to climb into and hide for the rest of my days. “Mrs. Cleary has cleared her to leave medical. Amber if you will excuse us for a moment.” Damian is businesslike and abrupt, more so then usual. My stomach drops. I am being reprimanded for my performance yesterday. I will be pulled from hunting parties and patrol because of my lack of skill. My embarrassment forgotten I go on the defensive.

“It was a poor move, I know. I should have dodged but I was still standing. I helped yesterday I know I did. Don’t bench me. I can help. I can. I…” I say in a panic as soon as the fabric door rustles closed behind Amber. Damian watches closely, his eyes picking me apart. He pulls the plastic chair in the corner over and sits crossing his arms over his chest and continues to focus on me. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“Are you finished?” He asks. What else is there to say? I screwed up. I know I can still be of help. I am stronger than everyone thinks. “I am here on behalf of my mother. I am delivering a message.” Oh. “You have three days to rest and recover from your injury. Following your respite you are to report to the training room at 07:00 every morning no exceptions.” He uncrosses his arms and relaxes his posture slightly. “You are not being benched Honda, your performance yesterday was adequate and, you were of assistance.” I feel lighter now than I have in weeks. I have been of help, not a burden. I believe Roy would pat me affectionately on the head for this.

“Seven am, yes I will be there.” I say in reply. 

Damian stands and picks up my déjà vu journal. “Have you finished your poem Honda? I would like to show it to Drake.” He tosses my book back on my blankets and looks at me. Smirking evilly he holds my gaze for a moment before he turns and walks out. My mortification has returned. I attempt to bury my face in my pillow but it stings so I sit flushed, ears burning. I remember what I said. I remember the words. 

[ “You know I wouldn’t want to write poems about Tim.” I slurred. Damian smirked slightly at that before scowling once more. “I could write them about you though.” I think he laughed.

“Shut up Honda, you are going to regret that.” ]

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

The west side of Gotham is empty except for the wild life that has been creeping in. Raccoons and skunks are around every corner and there are several deer littering the green spaces of backyards and playgrounds. I will have to send Jackson, Forbes and some of the others in here to bring a few more in for food. I have been searching the location of yesterday’s skirmish with the King’s men but have found no clues as to his identity or whereabouts. I have recovered four arrows that can be returned to Jackson and found a blood trail leading away but it goes cold half a block down. Dick and Daniel are with me but so far have come up empty handed as well. Daniel wears riot gear that he took from the GCPD, Dick and I in uniform. The city is not safe. It was dangerous before the Ends now the silence is deafening but still treacherous. The threat is still here lingering in the shadows. I have speculated that perhaps the King is someone we are already familiar with. Arkham is empty save for the dead. There are several persons unaccounted for, some possessing the skills to organize a group of this size. How I long for the resources I had before the end of the world. The cameras in the city no longer work, our coms cut out after two miles from Wayne Manor, and fuel is rationed tightly. Though we still have security video and coms within the grounds here we are working blind. 

I hear Dick’s bird call and turn to make my way towards him.

“You said anything unusual right. Well I’d say this fits that description and keeps on going.” Dick says as he hands me a blue binder. Daniel joins us as I open the book. 

It’s a scrap book of sorts. There are one or two pictures in plastic on each page, all newspaper clippings or armature photographs. All of them, every last one is of my family. There is Dick as Robin, Jason, Tim, and Damian, Nightwing Red Hood and Red Robin, as well as Spoiler, Batgirl, and Blackbat. There are even pictures of Kate, Duke and Harper. “Where did you find this?” I ask Dick with trepidation.

“Propped up against the windshield right there.” Dick answers as he points toward a GCPD cruiser that had long ago tangled with the lamp post. 

“Someone definitely left that for you as a gift.” Daniel surmises.

I leaf through the plastic pages again. These photographs span years and are placed in a chronological order of sorts. This is more than a fan’s collection. It is an introduction, a warning, and an invitation. 

“Let’s head back. I want to go over this book thoroughly.” I order.

“Maybe Tim can wrap his big brain around it.” Dick says as we walk through the rubble that was once Gotham.

We finally have a clue about the King. I haven’t deciphered it yet but I will. I am one step closer to bringing him down, one step closer to rebuilding. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Spencer

I spent my three days of rest either in the library or the common area. It was hard to remain inactive as I felt completely fine but no one and I mean no one goes against Mrs. Cleary. I would sit reading for hours, occasionally joined by Damian. The conversation was sparse but I didn’t mind, it was nice to have his company. I was still rather embarrassed but thankfully Damian had said no more about my concussed ramblings. 

Now I am in the training room being drilled by Talia. She is relentless. Her wooden sword has left more bruises than the fight with the King’s men had.

“Pay attention!” She snaps as her weapon smacks down on my knuckles. The previous scabs are pulled off and I drip a thin trail of blood to my wrist. My focus however has increased tenfold. I slide to the side avoiding a rather sharp jab and swing only to be blocked. I try crouching and using my leg to knock her off of hers but she jumps and avoids my movements. She lunges and our swords are pressed together in a struggle of strength which I know I cannot win. I drop like a rag doll and roll to the side as her momentum carries her forward. It was not a clean move and the toe of her boot catches my shin in a splinter of pain. I yelp and stumble in my attempts to stand, ending up on my ass. I raise my head and the tip of Talia’s bokken is an inch away from my heart. She lowers her weapon and walks off the training mat. I struggle to my feet sore and disappointed. “Tomorrow you will focus.” She says flatly in dismissal. 

I return my practice weapon, grab my belongings and make my way to the exit. Damian, who was leaning against the wall passes me with a nod and walks on to the training mat with his sheathed sword. I wonder how long he had been there, long enough perhaps to see me land on my ass. 

I turn and watch. He moves gracefully. He is lethal elegance. I shake my head as I realize how poetic that sounded and thank the stars I did not say it aloud. I linger far longer than I should have, I feel eyes on me. I shift my gaze and find Talia’s glare boring into me flesh, intimidating me. I leave quickly not taking a breath until I am in my bunk. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

The breeze that blows in the broken window of my old bedroom is hot and stifling. It does not cool my overheated skin. The sun setting has done nothing to help the humidity and closeness of the air. The cave below is cool but I followed Talia here only to create more heat. 

She lays naked on top of the sheets next to me but no longer are we touching. It is far too warm. “And the Cat?” She asks

“Yes Selina’s picture is in the book. As is yours.” I answer. I knew she would question me on the contents and quite honestly I would like her to look through it. She may be able to see something that I do not. “Will you look at it and give me your thoughts?”

“Of course Beloved.”

I decide to change the subject. “How was Spencer’s new training?” I ask curious as to why Talia is making an effort.

“The girl is insufferably inept.” She replies.

I know the girl is not inept. In fact she is one of the better trained civilians we have here thanks to Roy Harper. “Then why do you bother Talia? Why make the effort with the girl?”

She leans up on her elbow and looks sternly into my eyes. “Do you not see it my detective? She is dangerous.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Spencer

My hair has gotten a little long so I borrowed the clippers from Alfred and gave myself a good trim. Clipped hair clings to the soft bristles and no amount of head rubbing seems to dislodge them all. I return them to their shelf and head to the showers. 

The gloriousness of hot showers was completely underrated by the population before The Ends. This right here is as close to euphoria as anyone can get. I prefer to take my showers later into the evening when the cave is winding down. The bathroom is usually empty and I am not sharing space with others. 

I linger in the steamy mirror, turning my head from one direction to another as I admire the black eye and stitches that will most definitely leave a scar. I have bandaged my knuckles to keep from splitting them again and my arms and legs are molted with bruises. I am a hot mess. Well mostly just a mess.

My body protests as I make my way across the bathroom to the exit. Only a little further before I can sprawl out on the soft luxury of my bunk. I pause as Damian walks in with purposed steps. He looks straight ahead and does not acknowledge me as he approaches. His momentum stops abruptly at my side. I am facing the exit, he is facing the showers. He grabs my forearm firmly but continues to stare ahead of him. My head snaps tightly towards him at the contact. He remains silent for what feels like an eternity as I gaze up trying to discern his actions. I watch him swallow hard.

“I want to kiss you.” The words are matter of fact and have no inflection.

I do not move as I let that sink in. There is a constriction in my chest that is not unpleasant, my stomach tightens warmly and I am sure that my heart rate just jumped up. His hand slowly lets go of my arm and he lets out a heavy breath. I should probably speak. “Then you should.”

In the second it takes me to blink his lips are on mine and I see no need to keep my eyes open. His mouth is warm and soft as it moves against mine. The kiss is slow and tentative and new and over far too soon. His eyes linger on mine for the briefest of moments before he walks away without saying a word. I am left standing alone with a pounding heart. I gingerly touch my lips with my fingertips as a small smile pulls at my mouth.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Kissy faces, some yuck and confusing theories

The Ends 15

Spencer

I am uncertain about dating edict in an apocalypse. Perhaps dating is not the best choice of words. Relationships? No. Romance? No. Completely awkward fondness of another human being? Yes! 

Damian had kissed me. I did not have much experience with matters of that nature before the Ends. It was not my first kiss but it seemed to be the important one. I spent the rest of that evening in a giddy teenage bubblegum pink haze but was pulled back to harsh reality when I woke up, joints throbbing and muscles screaming. Oh Right the end of the world. I should not be focusing on boys. Survival and strength is what I needed to focus on. But my stomach did that fluttery spinny thing every time I thought about him. So I forced myself to stop. 

I guess I didn’t have to bother with the internal struggle because Damian acted no differently towards me then he had any other day. He nodded in greeting as he took the training mat after me, he used my last name as I walked past him at dinner, and he did not join me in the library as he was on patrol. This was repeated the day after that as well. Looking back I will admit to being a little insecure by his indifference but it did help me focus on what was needed for me to accomplish, my training until the following evening. He made an appearance in the library and I was an awkward nervous mess. 

“Honda.”

“Wayne.”

He sat closer to me than he normally does and picked up his book. I pretended to continue reading but I was overly aware of his presence and when I saw the smallest shift in his body my head turned. He was looking at me hard a crooked smirk gracing his features and then we were kissing. The world fell away and it was him and how good it felt to be this close. I lost myself in the moment, floating away from all the horror I have seen and then he pulled away, the dirty library walls and shelves were once again reality. 

“You are a distraction.” He whispered in quiet acceptance.

He had only paused for a second to slide closer to me and we fell together again. That is how it was with us, polite indifference or complete and utter intensity. 

That was months ago. Summer came and went with the crops we grew. The hot sticky air has been replaced with the cool breeze of autumn. Jackson had a birthday and so did Damian. There were no cakes but I managed to scavenge gifts for both of them. I managed 3 arrows from a demolished Costco for Jackson and a decent copy of Titus Andronicus from The Gotham City Library for Damian. It was worth the effort because right now I am being pushed into the cushions of the library couch by the weight of Damian’s body. His lips are hot against mine and that wicked, devilish tongue of his darts out to play. I can feel him breath into me as my fingers card through his hair. I move my mouth against his, my stomach dropping out like I am freefalling into nothingness. His warm rough hand slips under my hoody and comes to rest on my ribs, thumb stroking the untouched skin there. I reluctantly pull back from his oh so tempting mouth and breathe deeply. He moves to sit up and takes me with him so we are sitting pressed shoulder to shoulder, his fingers finding mine. 

“My Birthday was last week.”

“No one told me, you didn’t tell me. It was Dick in passing two days ago on patrol. So I grabbed the book today while I was in the city.” I defend. He looks awkwardly at the book and then back to me.

“I… I am pleased with your choice. I do like this tragedy.” Damian says distressingly.

“I thought you might.” I respond with a sly grin.

He picks up the copy I retrieved and flips it open. “Do you mind? I would like to read a portion before we have to return to the cave.”

I lean in to him so I can see the pages as well. He is familiar with this and understands that I will read along with him. He retrieves the small LED light he always brings from the table in front of us and shines it on the page. He begins reading. I begin daydreaming. 

Jackson has grown. He is almost the same height as me at eleven. He is far too serious for a child but that has paid off for him. He is by far the best marksman of the civilians and I am fairly certain he could give any of the Bats a run for their money. He still spends time with Talia. She works diligently with him. As for her lack of affection for me, it has improved to tolerance. I have made improvements and now train with an actual blade. I believe she suspects I am fawning over her son. Fawning I am not I am just assuming Talia would think that of me. She has been giving me little snippets of his life. She speaks of blood and legacies that no longer exist but a clear warning is evident. He is dangerous. It is to warn me off I am certain but I have no fear of Damian. That is a lie. I do fear him and the control I lose when he is near but that is not what Talia speaks of. I choose to pretend I don’t understand which infuriates her. I know I tread lightly on thin already cracked ice but she is just so mean. Amber had decided she wanted to be of more help. She lived not far from Wayne manor previously and her family ran in the same social circles. She admits to being a socialite, selfie loving princess but I love her. She took the basic self defense course and trained with Daniel to use what she calls a Baby Glock. She worked really hard and had joined patrols and hunting parties last month. 

“It’s the end of the world Spence, I can either wait to die or I can live and die.” She said when I asked her why she would go through all the hard work when she was safe and useful inside the cave. She is the bravest, smartest, toughest spoiled socialite ever in the history of ever.

Roy has not returned. He should have made it to Star City by now and even had time to return. I keep telling myself that there are probably things that need addressing there and he will be back shortly. My mind tries to go into dark corner where I see him dead and rotting on the side of the road but I push hard against those thoughts. He is just late. It’s Roy Harper, he will be back.

“Honda?” Damian’s voice startles me out of my thoughts and I notice he has closed his book and is looking at me intently. Now that he has my attention he presses a chaste kiss on the corner of my mouth and stands. “I am returning are you as well?”

“Yeah, it’s late.” I join him for the silent walk back down to the cave. We part ways with nothing more than a glance and I fall into my bunk with Damian still on my lips.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce  
The vegetable garden we grew was a success. Alfred and Stephanie were the primary caretakers and they did an excellent job. Mrs. Cleary though busy with her nursing duties still gave instructions and we were able to can what would spoil and properly store what would last the winter. Jackson and Forbes have put their archery to use and bring in meat as often as they can. Squirrel is not half as bad as one would think. Talia has permanently taken residence within my bunk. I have found her sharp edges to be slowly smoothing out. She is still working with Jackson Honda but I have noticed that Damian has been with her in the training room frequently. They at least are spending time together. Her disdain for Spencer Honda has transitioned to a grudging acceptance as the girl’s skills improve. 

Since my discovery of the girl and my son in the library I have been watching. Something has changed in their dynamic. They are often together in the library sometimes for hours in the evenings. I will not pry even though Talia insists I speak with our son. She feels the girl is a nuisance and will only distract Damian. Her elitism will not accept Spencer. I believe the friendship is healthy.

“It is the end of the world Talia. The girl has nothing to prove. Let them be friends.”

“He is a warrior he cannot have petty distractions. The girl is nothing more.” She argues.

I don’t want to rehash this argument again and I simply let it go shifting my head on the pillow. Talia turns and moves closer. Her attempt at letting it go before we sleep. I throw an arm over her hip in acceptance.

Sleep eludes me as it more than often does. My mind races. Roy has not returned and this weighs heavy. It has been enough time to make the round trip and still I have no inclining to his whereabouts. I am considering sending out Daniel and Dick to search the route he was to take. I cannot afford to send them all the way to Star City but perhaps half way on a search for signs or clues. Still I wait a short time longer before I take that step.

The King has grown into more than a passive threat. His men are everywhere in the city and our excursions there having become more stealth based than I would like. The scrap book that he left for me has been of no help other than to point out that The King knows me, knows us. I go into the city alone often and search. I will find him. The survival of our small community depends on it. He is the new threat. He is far more dangerous than a repeat of the virus. He needs to be neutralized. 

The virus. The Ends. The antibodies. The déjà vu. Tim has a theory. Spencer and I kept our journal and handed it in to Tim for him to go over. The three of us sat down together and discussed it. We then did another two weeks of entries and came away with the same findings. My déjà vu and Spencer’s though a similar symptom are unrelated. Her episodes are triggered by entirely different events then my own. We may both have the strange feeling but they are always over different events. Tim spent weeks analyzing the virus, the antibodies, and our journals. Though he produced no solid answers he came up with a theory. I always take Tim’s theories seriously. He was the only one who thought I was alive years ago because of a theory. So we have come to an end of our research on The Ends. There is nothing more we can do and we must accept that.

“The Tech is far to advanced for me to decipher and I am loath to admit that but it is fact. The virus itself is mundane it is the tech behind it that is astonishing. I have a theory.” Tim had said to me. His theory is strange but entirely plausible. 

He believes that I have actually experienced these events before. That this has actually happened and I am reliving it. It could be a speedster tampering with timelines. It could be parallel earths colliding. It could be aliens manipulating us but I have lived this before. In my experience strange things have come to pass and I will not right this idea off. I perhaps am reliving this nightmare. Whomever or whatever is the cause may not ever be known which will eternally torment me but for now I will accept this. I have no more answers and only one more question. I have been to other worlds. I have seen and experienced strange things. I have been a target for many. I may be reliving the end of the world but why, why is the girl being put through this as well?


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Death, violence, blood, loss. It sounds worse then it is but a warning is needed.
> 
> We are almost their. Only four more chapters till the end.

The Ends 16

Spencer

It is 3:37 pm. There is only approximately an hour and a half of daylight left. Their E.T.A was 1pm. Tim is the team leader and he does not break protocol, not ever. Hunting parties have been late on the return before, a half hour here or a few minutes there. This is well over two hours with sunset approaching fast. Smith, Calvin, Forbes, Jackson, and Amber are this week’s team. Jackson and Forbes are assigned almost weekly so that they can hunt, the others gather. Jackson’s experience is of no comfort to me right now. He is still my eleven year old brother and I pace the cold stone floor waiting for the team’s return. I am not the only one showing concern. The Tension coming from the off limits area is palatable. I can feel it all the way over here. 

“Honda, your insistent pacing is an ill equipped coping mechanism for your concern, please stop.” Damian says as he gently grabs my arm to stop my momentum. Coming from anyone else I would have been angry but he is trying to comfort me. I think. I stop and nod. His hand runs down my arm and our fingers interlock for the briefest of moments. He then leaves my side and makes his way towards the computers where his father and the others are. 

Their inaction is frustrating and I cannot for the life of me understand why they are sitting here waiting. Why are they not moving to search for the team? I can rationalize the danger to others. I can understand the importance of keeping our numbers and not risking more people. I can understand the level of training and expertise that Tim has but no matter how hard I try to look rationally at it that is my brother out there! 

‘Never an option’

I slip up into the manor. My presence below was not what anyone was focused on and it was a simple thing to walk past and directly up the stone steps. I nod to Blake and Johnson at the gate and pass without issue. I move quickly along the road towards the city with no plan, no idea of where to start or what to do but I will find them. 

It takes about thirty minutes on foot to reach the outlining areas of Gotham if you walk at a quick steady pace. Twenty minutes into my journey I can hear the faint hum of an expensive motorcycle making its way towards me from behind. I am not sure if I am surprised or not. I do not stop or slow down. Let them try to convince me to turn around. I will not. My brother is out there and I am going to find him and bring him back. 

The bike has caught up and I hear the rider kill the engine but I don’t turn around. I don’t stop.

“Honda.” It’s Damian. He jogs up alongside of me and puts a heavy hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off and keep looking forward. “Honda!” His voice is loud and crisp as he moves in front of me. He is a wall of sinewy muscle and authority that ceases my steps. 

“I have to find him.” I say not looking up but straight ahead which is now into the red of his uniform. The sun is moving far too swiftly towards the horizon and everything has taken on a golden hue as shadows stretch out impossibly long. 

“Not alone.” I lift my head at his words. He isn’t here to stop me, he’s here to help.

“Thank you.”

A cool wind blows past and in the rustle of leaves we can hear the crunch of boots. The road ahead curves into a bend and the team rounds it coming into view. Their steps are slow and heavy and pained. Jackson walks dragging his booted feet. I can see the blood drying on his face from here but he is alright. He is safe. The others look in no better shape. Tim struggles with each step, the weight in his arms slowing him down. 

They are close now. They do not stop. They do not speed up. I see her clearly as they pass us on the road home. Her clothes are soaked in blood. Her arm dangles at an impossible angle. Her head hangs limply back, eyes open, unfocused staring off at nothing as a small trail of crimson runs out of the corner of her mouth and down her chin. She does not speak. She does not move. Her chest does not rise and fall. 

They continue as if Damian and I are not here. We are ghosts witnessing their march home. I do not turn to watch them as they pass. I feel Damian’s hand on my waist steadying me as I sway slightly in the breeze. The images register.

“Amber.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

“She’s gone.” I hear Damian mumble. Tim and his team are late. Too late for my liking and Spencer has been excessively agitated. Her brother is a team member and I believe that is who Damian is referring to.

“Go.” I give him permission to chase after her, to stop her before she gets into the city alone. We do not need more missing people. 

Approximately an hour later Tim comes through the com. The coms only work within the manor grounds and the tenseness in my shoulders loosens at the sound of his voice but only for a moment.

“Returning. We have one down.”

“Copy, I’ll get Mrs. Cleary…” 

“Bruce… it’s too late.”

My stomach flips and my chest constricts as I stand motioning for Dick to follow me. We head towards the stairs as Tim begins his decent carrying Amber’s lifeless body.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Spencer

Jackson needed seven stitches but is otherwise fine. The other members of the team were treated for varying degrees of injuries from cracked ribs to cuts and abrasions. I was not permitted to see Amber. Alfred took her quickly away to the back of medical. Perhaps that was for the best. Jackson and I now sit in his bunk silently. We have lost people before. We lost our family but The Ends took them. Amber didn’t get sick or fall into the chaos of the end. She was killed just for the sake of killing. 

Jackson did his best to fill me in. Amber had wondered off too far around a corner where she was grabbed. The team had heard the scream that was cut short and moved immediately. Tim tracked them to a demolished department store after forty five minutes of searching. They found her lying on a counter top, dead. Spray painted across her broken body was the words ‘baby bird’ in yellow with a big red X through it. It was a trap. They were jumped and had to fight their way out. The King’s men were serious. That is where they received their injuries.

It was a horrifying story, something right out of a nightmare. The tears welled in the corners of my brother’s eyes but only one slipped out that he wiped away quickly. I felt numb.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

“Both the radius and ulna of Miss Amber’s forearm are broken. That most likely occurred when she was grabbed. The gun shot to her chest entered directly into her heart. She did not suffer.” Alfred describes of his examination on Amber’s body. It is of small consolation. Her death has sent a wave of sadness and unease through the cave. Up until this The King’s men had been a threat but not a fear. Now they are the monsters that lurk within every shadow. They have taken one of ours.

“I am halting the excursions into the city. No one leaves the grounds.” I say to Alfred. I brush a loose strand of hair away from Amber’s cold cheek and pull the clean white linen up to cover her. I may not know where The King is but he has played his card and I know who he is.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Spencer

The fabric is pushed back and Damian stands in the entrance and watches me. I am sitting cross legged on Amber’s bunk her pillow in my lap. The numbness had finally left and I have spent the last hour here with my tears and what belonged to my friend. He takes a tentative step then joins me on her bunk, mirroring my position. 

“Does this help?” He asks and I am startled by the pain I hear in his voice. 

“I’m not sure, maybe.” I respond. He looks awkward and ready to run. I reach over and put my hand in his. He squeezes in reply before letting go and together we sit. We don’t talk, we just stay here together.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

I am angry! I can barely contain my rage. Talia insists that I use it, perhaps she is right but I must think this through carefully. He wanted me to know exactly who he was and now that I do he will twist and turn and manipulate. He will drive me to the brink of madness. It’s what he does and he is oh so very good at it. He will pluck those around me away until I am alone and broken. That is what he wants, that is what he has always wanted. To destroy what he sees as my weakness. NO! They are not weakness, they are strength. I am not alone, I am not broken. Not this time!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Underage sexual situations. but we all knew this was coming. two 16 year olds at the end of the world. It is really tame. If you do not want to read it skip down to the page break and pick up from there. Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Only three more chapters to go!

The Ends 17

Spencer

“Mom?”

“Dad?”

“Kennedy?”

“Everything is gone but you and me, we are still here I have to believe that means something. It does mean something! It means we can’t give up, not now, not for one second, no matter what is happening, no matter what the world keeps taking from us we can’t give up. It will never be an option.” 

“Never an option. I swear Spencer.”

“I’m proud of you Eye of The Tiger.”

“Me to kiddo.”

“I believe you have been underestimated.”

“Shut up Honda, you are going to regret that.”

“I want to kiss you.” 

“It’s the end of the world Spence, I can either wait to die or I can live and die.” 

 

 

He looks at me curiously from the doorway. The library is cool, lit in ghostly white from the light of the full moon that slides in through the glass of the window. His face is shadowed in the dimness making him dangerously beautiful. I sit, knees drawn up on the soft couch, toying with the small packet in my fingers. He only lingers there for a moment before striding with confident steps towards me. I uncurl and stand before he reaches me. He is so close. I can feel his warm breath tickle against my forehead. His hands ghost over my arms but do not touch me. My heart pounds heavily and for a split second the rushing of my blood is all I can hear. I tilt my head up to meet his eyes, their blue can still be seen even in this gloom. His lips graze over mine but he makes no connection, he waits. 

Déjà vu swirls in my head, my heart but I push it away. No. I am now. I take a deep shaky breath and turn my head away. I feel the smallest of breaths against my ear and I shiver, goose bumps rising. “Honda.” He whispers sending those shivers up my spine and knotting my insides. He makes it so very hard to speak but I must.

In a hushed voice I say what I need to say. “I have been running for so long, hiding from death but its right there behind me, behind all of us. I am going to die, that I do not have a choice in but how I live is mine to choose. I will wait no more, I will hide no more. I want to know and experience…” I grasp his warm hand with my trembling fingers and place the foil packet there. I keep my gaze to the side, my courage waning. 

He is motionless and silent and I am not brave enough to question him. I wait.

“Spencer.” I have never heard him speak my given name and my head snaps up immediately. Damian Wayne is strong, powerful, skilled, lethal and looking at me like a deer caught in the headlights. We both stand there inches apart but neither moves. Our chests rise and fall heavily, our eyes locked together in silence. 

He moves first. His kiss is different, it’s more, warm and wet. His tongue is insistent. I feel his hands shake as they tug my t-shirt upwards and finally over my head. I unclasp my bra and let it fall where it may. His eyes are wide as he raises a hand and cups a small breast. It is a pleasant sensation and I close my eyes to savor it. My courage has returned and I move to pull his shirt off as well. Smooth skin over muscle and a huge scar that I am surprised he survived. I touch it gingerly with cool fingertips and he stills allowing me to explore. I pull at his belt and his button and he does the same to me. We don’t rush one step at a time. Being naked, exposed to his gaze is both exciting and terrifying but he is as exposed as I am. I touch and am surprised at the softness of skin. He touches and it takes my breath away. We tremble, we search, we try.

His hands guide me down, laying my body out on the sofa as he covers me with his. Skin on skin. His mouth travels on my neck upwards to find my lips and we lay like that kissing. I lose reality, lost in how he feels. His hands roaming warm and soft. He stops and my eyes flutter open. He shifts and rips the foil open and struggles momentarily until he is successfully covered. He shifts back and gently pulls my lip between his.

“Yes?” He asks as if I would reject him.

“Yes.” I whisper.

It burns. It burns in so many different ways. The sting fades but the heat remains. His motion gently rocks me into a haze. The way he smells. The way he sounds. The way he feels. There is only him. I have never felt these emotions that swirl and tighten with every thrust of his hips and I don’t want to put a word to them. Not yet. 

Time is of no consequence. What matters is rising to meet him, tasting his skin, and the way his fingers stroke. Small noises escape me and he kisses them away. His muscles shake and his arms tighten around me as he pushes impossibly deep inside. He mumbles something that closely resembles my name but not quite and my heart explodes.

His body lays heavily on mine and he breaths harshly into the skin of my neck. I am enjoying the weight of him on me but too soon he moves. He doesn’t go far. We are a tangle of limbs on the sofa and the heat of his body keeps me warm from the cool air of the library. I don’t know what comes next. I didn’t think that far ahead but it doesn’t matter because right now I am alive.

“This… You and I.” Damian begins awkwardly. “It has become… Important. It pleases me. I mean…”

I interrupt him by swallowing his words with my lips. His hand finds mine and our fingers interlock. We stay close, neither wanting to leave. 

A warm calming feeling embraces me and I shift a little closer to him. His eyelids are heavy and it would be wonderful to close mine. Closing my eyes, surrounded by Damian I mumble but he is already asleep and does not hear my words. I sigh contentedly and fall as well.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

It is barely seven in the morning but I am awake. I managed three hours of sleep which is much more then I have gotten recently. Talia is already up and gone perhaps getting less sleep than even I did. I find her in the training room laying waste to the punching bag. Her skin slicked in sweat, her eyes focused but she notices my presence and stops pushing loose strands of hair off of her damp face.

“He did not return to his bunk last night.” She says accusingly. “He stayed with the girl.”

I can’t help but smirk to myself. The world has stopped turning and if my son finds happiness then so be it. I see no issue but Talia still clings to her ideals. “Talia let them be.”

“I am trying beloved. I am trying.”

That is when I see it. She has been trying all along. Perhaps to others she seems heartless, vicious even but she is not. She has not spoken to Damian about the girl nor has she been openly hostile to her. She trains Spencer daily molding her into someone of strength. She has only voiced her concern to me and has left Damian to his own devices. A wave of guilt floods over me for doubting her. “You have. Forgive me.”

She moves towards me and rests her head against my chest listening perhaps to the beat of my heart.

“Mother, Father.”

We both turn at the sound of Damian’s voice. He and Spencer stand just inside the training room. Spencer’s cheeks are flushed with red as she watches Talia step away from me. The closeness in which they stand does not go unnoticed by either of us. Spencer has come to the training room every single morning at seven am at Talia’s request in order to train and today is no different. The girl unzips her hoodie and tosses it against the wall as she moves onto the training mat. Damian moves to the side and leans against the wall crossing his arms, I join him there. 

The women do not speak. They simply draw their blades and begin their dance. Spencer has improved drastically and she moves fluidly countering Talia. I can see that Talia is holding back but still the girl’s skill is impressive. Talia has done an excellent job with her. “She is very good.” I say to my son as we watch.

“She is. She has worked very hard.” Damian says with pride. I watch him watch her and it hits me, just how important this girl is to my son. I place a heavy hand on his shoulder and give him a rare smile as he looks up at me. 

“I will see you later.” I say as I leave the training room.

I make my way to the computer. The screens are dark but still I sit in the chair and look at them. If only they could give me the answers I seek, the unknown variables that continuously bombard us. In the distance I hear the heavy footfalls of running feet. They approach quickly and I stand to face them as they come to skidding halt a short distance away.

“Blake?” I question looking at the winded red-faced man.

“Coms are down. There’s a large group approaching maybe fifteen people. Bruce you have to come top side.”

I am in motion before he stops speaking, giving orders as I walk away. “Wake Dick and Tim, Talia is in the training room.”

I am up the stone steps and through the manor in an instant. The sun is shining brightly in the cold air as the group reaches the gates. I stand motionless and close my eyes as they are stopped by Johnson. I feel a weight lift. Opening my eyes I move and shout out his name.

“Oliver!”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mild sexual content, overprotective Roy, and explosions
> 
> At the end of Spencer's part, the conversation between Roy and Damian is just like a conversation they had in Red Hood and The Outlaws when Damian was a ten year old boy fyi.
> 
> Only two more chapters

The Ends 18

Spencer

Blake runs into the training room in a panic. He is breathing heavy and his face is red with exertion. “People at the gates. Bruce is on his way up.” He huffs and runs out the door towards the trophy room. Talia sheaths her sword but takes it with her.

“Damian.” She calls to him as she whisks past and he moves following her. She pauses for a split second. “You as well girl.” I don’t have to time to be shocked as I run to catch up.

I hear Jackson yell my name as I run up the stairs and I motion for him to hurry. He is never without his crossbow. We reach the main doors shortly before Barbara, Dick, and Tim and come to a baffled stop. My fear shifts into confusion. There are most certainly strangers at our gates but Bruce is speaking calmly with them. 

“Spencer.” I hear my brother say quietly as he watches the newcomers. I follow his line of site and there in the crowd is a whole lot of red topped off with a trucker hat.

I am running before I even realize my feet have moved my brother right beside me. “Roy!!!” I squeal as I crash into him, knocking us both down for Jackson to fall on. I bury my head in his neck getting a face full of straggly, dirty red hair but I don’t care. I feel his arm wind around my back squeezing tightly, Jackson in the same grip of his other arm.

“Hey there kiddos, man I missed you squirts.” Roy’s voice is soothing and I am so happy to see him, so happy he is safe a couple tears slip by me and I rub ruthlessly at them with the back of my hand before anyone can notice. I untangle myself and stand up brushing dirt from my jeans as Roy and Jackson do the same. 

“What took you so long? Were you hurt? Did you get in some kind of trouble? Are you hurt? Is everything ok? The words fall out of my mouth in a wave of relief and happiness.

“Business that needed taking care of. No. Umm Kind of. No. Yes.” Roy answers with a smirk. “I will fill you in I promise Spence. C’mon there is someone I want you to meet.” We move towards the back of the group where a woman is leaning against a gate wall. Her dark hair reminds me so much of my sister for a moment that it is almost painful but her expression is nothing like Kennedy’s. This woman appears dangerous, not unlike Talia except for her hesitation as she pushes herself off of the wall towards us. “Umm this is Jade.” Roy is short and blunt. Jackson mutters a quiet hello as I look from the woman back to Roy. She is graceful and confident but stays quiet. Roy is rubbing the back of his neck with a goofy grin on his face. 

:Ohhhhhh…” I say as understanding washes over me. Waggling my eyebrows and bumping my elbow into Roy’s gut I respond. “Nice to meet you.” 

“I have heard much about the both of you.” She says with a nod of her head. 

The chaos at the gates moves into the cave. Most of the Star City group are lingering in the common area eating, the remainder of them are in the off limits area with Bruce. I am pacing as stealthily as I can in order to catch what is being discussed. Tensions seem to be a little bit high. Both Roy and Damian have noticed me but I don’t think any of the others within are giving me much thought. 

It has taken the better part of the day but finally they seem to be finished and the meeting breaks up. Oliver Queen is not as scary as I thought he would be as he introduces himself with a big smile and thanks me for keeping Roy in line. Roy seems a little put off but doesn’t say anything. “Where’s Jack?” He asks.

“Outside with Forbes, he got bored waiting.” I reply. Roy rubs his hand over my bristly head promising to hang out later. Both he and Oliver are off to see Jackson. 

I linger there waiting until Damian leaves. He moves towards me as if he has done it a million times before and slows as he reaches me. I feel the warm tips of his fingers stroke the inside of my palm as he silently asks me to follow. We walk together up the stairs, no more secrets.

I had gone to a shelf as soon as we entered the library to grab a new book as I have just finished one but I don’t think Damian wants to read at the moment. He presses my back against the shelf, hands on my hips, lips at my ear and the book in my hands falls to the floor forgotten. The world washes away and all that is left is him. I could live here like this for eternity. My fingers find his belt and pull him closer as his hands slide under my t-shirt scraping along my skin as he makes his way up. 

“Spencer.” He whispers against my ear, sending shivers up my spin. His lips ghost over my neck before they are on my mouth. A small mewling sound escapes me encouraging Damian to press himself against me harder but his heat, his presence is gone. My eyes fly open as he is pushed against the opposite shelf with a thud, Roy’s hand holding him there. Damian glares up at him.

“Roy!! No. It’s ok.” I start but he raises his other hand pointing at me. I become silent. They watch each other, neither backing down until suddenly Roy lets go with a deep breath.

“Ok.” He mutters to Damian.

“That hat still looks stupid.” Damian says to Roy and I think for an instant there is going to be serious trouble.

“What’s stupid is a sixteen year old kid still thinks I won’t kick his ass because he is a sixteen year old kid.” Both Damian and Roy are smirking and I realize that I have definitely missed something but I will never know because in this moment the walls and floors around us rumble with the sound of an explosion.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

Star City had slowly been abandoned. Oliver, Mia and Jade had stayed long past the time in which they needed to. There were a few people milling about the city when Roy arrived there. It took some time to gather them and close up shop as it were to make their way here to Gotham. The weather has turned colder as the end of December approaches and traveling was not as easy but they are here. I filled them in on what has been happening in my city, The King, his identity, and the threat that he poses. We have collectively decided to seek him out and put an end to this now rather than later. We made tentative plans before breaking. They needed to eat something and get some serious rest. Roy and Oliver spoke with Spencer and then left to find Jackson. I approached Oliver after they had returned and rested for a short time. I wanted to show him the security measures we have implemented around the grounds and let him get a feel for the place. He agreed. 

“You know where Spence is?” Roy asked me casually.

“If she is not in the training room or her bunk I would try the library.” I answered him. He left without hesitation to search her out. I caught myself suddenly and realized what I might have done but Roy was already gone. I will not lie it amused me. 

Oliver and I walked the grounds as I pointed out traps and guard posts. For a crude system it was impressive. 

Dick’s voice came over the com. “We have a problem Bruce. Front gate now.”

“Sixty seconds.” I started moving quickly Oliver beside me.

“Bruce?” He questioned as we ran

A lone man stood at the gate. Blake and Johnson several feet away with their guns raised, Talia, Dick and Stephanie as well are poised and ready, muscles tight ready to move. Mia has her bow drawn and an arrow knocked. There is only one man, one threat, and one grenade. He is dirty with greasy slicked back hair. He wears bright pink lipstick smeared in an impossibly wide grin across his face. In his left hand he holds a grenade with his finger on the pin.

He moves his right hand to reach inside his coat and everyone flinches. “Whoa, whoa there. I got a note from his majesty. Don’t shoot the messenger.” The slimy man says. I slowly move towards him as he pulls the message out and tosses it towards me. It is far too light to reach me and I have to move in closer to pick it up off the ground. It is single playing card taped to an envelope. The card is the king of spades I notice as I slowly tear open the envelope and step back away from the man. Oliver and Dick move cautiously, flanking me. I unfold the paper to find another playing card and the note that simply says ‘The end of the ends is in two days Bats. Don’t bother making a fuss I have more birds than you. HaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaHa’ The other card is of course the joker.

I look to the messenger and he smiles wickedly at me as he pulls the pin. I can see it fall as if in slow motion to the ground. The greasy man does not throw it, he stands griping it tightly laughing as his remaining seconds tick away. Each and every one of us jumps back and braces ourselves. It goes off in a flash of heat and a force of wind knocking me to the ground, my ears ringing. I look around and find the others in the same position as I am dirty and singed but uninjured. The greasy man is no more.

I stand and look to the sky. The community that I have built is in danger. My friends, my family. We have two days.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Violence,blood,death. It is a battle. Sorry not sorry.
> 
> One more to go!

The Ends 19

Spencer

I keep looking at it, the burnt out hole in the asphalt of the drive. I think I can make out bits and pieces of the man that blew himself up and I shudder scowling at it.

“Spencer, just stop looking at it.” Dick finally says to me. We are on guard duty and for the last three hours and forty eight minutes that is all I have done.

“I can’t it’s like some kind of gross attraction at a circus, I can’t stop staring.”

“Trust me when I say that there has never been anything like that at a circus.” He replies without looking at me.

I pull my eyes away again and train them on the road. I am scared and that is why I continue to focus on the burnt hole rather than what could be out there watching us back. We have two days well more like a day and a half now till The King, I mean the Joker and his army show up to end us. I say army because compared to us what he has is an army. I had become comfortable here. I had made a life. It took all I had to change, to become who I am now but I don’t think I am enough. I am terrified for Jackson, Damian, all the other people here and for myself. This is happening and I can’t stop it. I can’t do anything about it. How am I supposed to become a soldier? It was less than a year ago that my biggest concerns were writing an essay or which lip gloss goes with my outfit. I changed but I have to change again.  
I can feel the fear rise inside. My heart beats faster and my breaths become heavier and more often. I look back to the burnt out hole trying to center myself but it is not working very well at all.

“Changing is always harder than staying the same. It takes courage to face yourself in the mirror and look beyond the reflection. To find the you that you should have been. The you who got derailed by cruel childhood events. Events that took your life's natural trajectory and twisted it. Changing it into something unimaginable... or even incredible... giving you the courage to embrace you birthright, your destiny. It takes a very strong individual to do a one eighty on themselves and you know what? Being strong doesn’t mean you’re not afraid, it just means you still walk forward.” Dick spoke in a soft even voice. “I may have said something like this before to someone else but it rings true Spencer.”

I looked up at Dick who was staring straight ahead up the road. It was exactly what I needed to hear at exactly the right moment.

“Thank you.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

I called every single person, the children, the old, the strong, all of them to the common area. Our numbers seemed larger crammed into that space but I know how many we are. I relate events in an authoritative voice so the seriousness of the situation can be understood. I do not want to frighten anyone but this is war. I have no other word for it. There is going to be a fight, a battle and we have to stand together so that we can survive, everything that we have built here, all that we have gained, and all that we have lost will be for not if we allow the Joker to walk in and take it. All are afraid but the determination I can see through their fear is astonishing. These people have survived the end of the world and will not give in now. They will continue to survive.

There are those who will not be able to fight. Eric and Josh are too young with very little training. Mrs. Cleary is our only medical staff other than Alfred who I know will be on the front lines and I cannot dissuade him so she will have to remain behind. Henry, a quiet old man though strong of mind and soul is eighty seven. He is an excellent shot and a veteran. He will stay behind to protect those who cannot fight. Everyone else is capable but I give them a choice. Though this is a fight that affects them it is because of me that they have been put in this situation. The Joker’s obsession with me has put the group directly in his path and I will not pass responsibility to anyone. I hope for them to stand with me but I will understand if they choose not to. No one leaves and a wave of pride mingled with fear washes over me. I do not want any of these people to be hurt. They have become an integral part of life here in the Batcave. They have become us. 

We have just less than two days. We must keep vigilant. We have no time but we must become an army.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Spencer

We have been split into groups. Jackson has been placed in long range along with Roy, Oliver, Mia, Forbes, Alfred, and Daniel. I am relieved that Roy will be with him. I am in a close combat group lead by Tim. I had hoped to be in Damian’s group, I don’t want to be far from him but I understand why I am not. Distractions can get you killed. Tim is incredibly organized and has gone over a multitude of scenarios that we may encounter. I feel more prepared for this upcoming battle than I did for my last English final. We disperse late into the evening to rest if I can. Tomorrow our time is up.

It is strange sitting in Jackson’s bunk with him and Roy. Jade was here as well for a short time but she stealthily left without notice. It is like before, Roy smiling and joking with us and Jackson laughing along with him but in reality it is not the same. It is wrong. 

“Ok Jack I will see you in the am, I got your back little buddy.” Roy says ruffling Jackson’s hair as he stands. He turns to me and opens his arms. I am up and in a tight hug instantly. “You can do this Eye of the Tiger. Be safe…” He lets me go and looks from me to Jackson. “I am a very lucky man to have met the both of you.” With that he leaves.

I sat with Jackson for another hour until he drifted off and then climbed into my bunk. I lay here unable to sleep. Fear and uncertainty run rampant in my mind and I cannot shut it off. I stare up at the darkened ceiling as if it holds the peace I seek.

I jump when the fabric of my bunk moves open and sit up so fast my momentum carries right on over the edge of my bedroll. I look up to find Damian smirking at me. I right myself and move back onto my bedroll. 

“At least you are prepared to move quickly if not gracelessly.” He says as he toes his shoes off and sits beside me. He dips down and brushes a soft kiss on my mouth before pushing my head down on my pillow. He lies beside me both of us facing the other, his arm draped over my hip. “Try to sleep.” He whispers.

“I can’t.”

“Then close your eyes and rest.”

“Will you stay?” I ask softly.

“Yes.”

I close my eyes and find that Damian’s presence is comforting, after some time I can feel sleep creeping up on me, lulling me closer into Damian’s arms. I am slipping away to the rhythm of his heart. His words breathe gently across my forehead.

“Sleep Habibi.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

Talia sharpens her blade on the whet stone she has placed on the floor of our bunk. She works diligently preparing for tomorrow. 

“Have you seen Damian.” I ask as he had slipped away before I could have a moment with him.

“He is with the girl.” She responds but I note that there was no venom in her voice. I shuck my clothing and crawl under the blankets. She makes short work of putting her things away and undresses for sleep as well. She lies with her head on my chest as I cradle her with my arm. “We will put an end to this nuisance and be done with it.” She says confidently.

She is still but I know she does not sleep. It is several more hours before I feel the heaviness of slumber start to surround me. I pull her body in closer to mine as my eyelids droop and close. I am not sure but Talia may have spoken just as sleep took me.

“Be safe, Beloved.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Spencer

Bruce had gathered us all. Our General. We knew that each and every one of us was risking their life. Bruce knew that as well. He believed in us. He spoke. “All of us have survived the end of the world. We have lost so much but we have gained as well. We have gained new skills, we have gained strength and we have gained each other. It is not you or me or him or her or they it is us. We are US! We will not back down now! We will not give up! Surrender is NEVER AN OPTION!”

Battles either move to fast to keep up with or so slow it feels as if you are not even moving. We stood along the gate in rank and row or on the stone walls weapons drawn as the marched in a haphazard way towards us. The Joker himself in the middle of his men seated upon a throne or at least a very ornate chair carried by four huge muscle bound men. They placed him down and he laughed. All was silent except for his laughter that grated on my nerves and pierced like daggers in my ears then they were running towards us with an inhuman cry of war. 

I wanted to be scared. I wanted to have that moment where a person steels themselves to the task but I did not have time for any such luxury. 

The bullet hits Blake who is standing next to me in the head and he crumples to the ground in slow motion. I can feel the warm splatter of his blood on my face and I can feel how large my eyes are as I watch him die.

“Move!” I hear Tim yell from my other side and the chaos catches up to me with a rush of sound and fury. I grit my teeth and dodge an attacker. A hulking man rushes me from the side wielding a knife but I am too quick. My sword cuts up through his belly, blood bubbling out of his mouth as he falls to his knees. I register the fact that I have just killed a man and for one terrifying moment I think that I will just lay down right here. I cannot do this. I hear the ppfffft thump and see a man fall beside me an arrow in his neck. I spin and look up. Jackson is still looking at me with steel in his eyes as he nocks another arrow. Roy is yelling my name. I move.

I swing and duck and slash and step and dance with death. I want to see the others but all I can see are the men who want to kill me. Kill me for the sheer pleasure of it. I see the arrows and the batarangs and squint in the smoke of the battlefield but I keep moving. For Jackson. For Damian. For all of us.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

The Joker has the numbers but we have the skill, the precision, and the courage. His men are thugs at best. They are untrained and rush into their own demise. Our civilians are far better equipped than these men. Even the Honda children though small and young are able to handle these men. I truly wish it could be another way. So much needless death when there are so few of us left in this world. We subdue when we can and go further when we have to. 

I do not know how long the fight goes on. In one moment it feels like an eternity and then in the next it has been mere seconds. The smell of gunpowder burns my nose and the smoke of the battlefield stings my eyes as I drop another thug. 

A sudden quiet has fallen and I carefully take in my surroundings. Men are running away towards the city. Men are sitting, lying, dying. Some are us.

“HaHaHaHaHa oh Bats now wasn’t that fun?”

I spin around to see him, still sitting on that ridiculous throne casually legs crossed and lounging comfortably.

“Oh what a shame it seems to be over. I was hoping for a little more carnage before these buffoons inevitably lost. HaHaHa. But seriously Bats wasn’t that fun?”

I growl and move in closer, one step at a time. Damian and Dick mirror me on either side. I know and they know that this will end now, today. The Joker does not flinch or move and allows us to approach. He still has the proverbial trick up his sleeve. The three of us are no more than a few feet away. None of his men are helping him. Either they were told not to or they do not care to. 

His smile stretches even farther across his pale white face and he tilts his head looking me straight in the eye as he opens his coat. The flashing red numbers… 5… 4…3… I can hear Talia yell. I can hear Spencer scream. I can hear Barbara cry out. I can hear the Joker’s final punch line. 

“BANG!!!”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Nothing.
> 
> Well this is the end of the Ends. I had a blast writing it and I thank everyone who read, kudo'd,commented etc... It was a fun ride. I am considering a sequel as that was my plan from the start it you all want one? Thank you again.

The Ends 20

Spencer

“Honda?”

“I’m over here.”

“I know where you are woman. I am inquiring if you are ready.”

“Just looking for a coat. Found it. Let’s go.”

It had been a long three months but a sort of routine had settled in and I find comfort in that. I walk over to where Damian is waiting as patiently as he can for me and I take his arm. He shrugs me off before I can slide my hand down and entwine our fingers.

“I do not need assistance!” He growls. I sigh heavily, loud enough for him to hear.

“I am more than aware of that, I simply wanted to hold your hand.” I respond with all the patience I can muster. He harrumphs but holds his hand out palm up for me to take and I do. We make our way out of the cave, through the manor and out into the garden. They are finally finished.

The Joker’s bomb was the end of The Ends just like he said it would be. He took more than himself in that final bang and left a path of destruction and heartbreak in his wake. Damian stumbles slightly beside me but recovers quickly enough. He had stepped in a small divot on the snowy ground that no amount of training could prepare him for. Without his sight he is not weakened. He had been trained to fight without his eyes, too bad they didn’t take into consideration that the ground you walk on isn’t always flat or that there is a change in season. He can hear me breathe from across a room, he can find my weakness in the darkest dark but the snow covered lawn is a far greater enemy. The explosion’s shrapnel scarred him and left his eyes sightless. Bruce’s left arm was badly burned along with two broken ribs, and he is still in a full leg cast. Dick…

Jackson joins us as we walk to the center of the garden. Damian recognizes him from sound alone and greets him accordingly. Roy is already there hovering a small distance away with Jade and Oliver. Jackson moves to stand with them. I stay with Damian. We walk up close to Bruce, Talia and Barbara and stand silent. Everyone had pitched in and worked on them. Proper markers carved in stone for each grave. Amber, Blake, Daniel, Forbes, Dick, each one in its proper place. A wave of déjà vu hits me so hard I squeeze Damian’s hand a little too hard and he tilts his head towards me. I squeeze again, this time softer and reassuring. Everyone is silent but even though we stand at the foot of our friends graves I can feel a small tingling of hope. The worst is over. We can start here.

The snow starts falling softly and the wind is chilled as it still hangs onto winter. Tomorrow is my birthday. It has been one year. The hardest year of my life but I survived, I lived because there was never any other option. Damian shuffles and moves behind me as the wind picks up. I can see Bruce clearly now. He is pale against the dark fabric of his coat but stands on his own with his crutches. He glances at us and the corners of his mouth twitch upward just slightly but I will take it. I step back to be closer to Damian which is my favorite place to be.

I can feel him press into me, the uneven ground causing him problems. He will say it is to keep me warm but I know and I will say nothing. I like him there. The snow is starting to come down harder now, blanketing the world in clean white dust. This feels like the end. I really hope it is. Familiarity strikes at me again. It has happened so many times over the past year. It is unnerving. I should be looking forward, ahead to what is to come but I find myself glancing behind, back to the beginning of the end… 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce

 

I think this is the first time the air in Gotham has tasted clean. The wind is light but cold and there is a dusting of snow falling from the grey sky. They are standing only a few feet away from me. His arm is around her waist as he presses into her back. Whether it is to keep her from the chill or to anchor him I am not sure. Déjà vu sets in again, once too often for my liking. The end is over, now comes the hard part… 

The markers are crude but made with fondness and care. So much has been lost but I will not take back my words from before. We have gained as well. Talia stands beside me, a place I never thought she would be. I turn to her to say something but I can’t remember what it is. My ears are vibrating in a repetitive rhythm and my head is swimming. What was I doing? I look to the other side and Spencer is staring at me with an indiscernible expression. I could think clearly if only it wasn’t for this infernal vibrating. ‘vrrrr vrrrr vrrrr’ I long to lie down and cover my ears from the dizzying sound. I close my eyes and breathe deeply. It is a strange sensation. I feel as if I am lying, my head on the softest of pillows and it feels wonderful except for the retched sound. My eyes open and instead of the cold grey sky I am looking upon a crisp white ceiling. I am surrounded by warmth and comfort but the vibrating won’t stop. 

I sit up in a panic throwing blankets off and scattering pillows. My heart is hammering in my chest as I frantically take in my surroundings. My bedroom, my bed, complete and whole. The damage has been repaired and the room cleaned. There is even heat up here. No that’s not right. It makes no sense. I can still hear the hum of vibration but it seems so much closer now. There on the night stand is a phone. My phone. I reach for it and pull my hand back afraid to answer, afraid to move but the noise won’t stop unless I do.

“Hello.” I say tentatively with a raspy worn out voice.

“Are you ok? You’re late. Wait. Are you still sleeping? What the… no way. Ok what is going on?”

“Dick?” I breathe out in disbelief before the phone slips from my fingers.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

New York

Bruce

It took me several days to gather my bearings and plant myself firmly in the now but even so what happened lingers, ever present in my memories like a recurring nightmare. Perhaps it was a nightmare. Perhaps not. I came crashing back to the now on March fourteenth. The day the League called to inform me that Clark had fallen but he didn’t. I woke up in my own bed. No Ends, no apocalypse. Dick was alive. Jason was alive. Tim was here, and Damian was with The Teen Titans. Alfred examined me. Tim examined me. I was and am perfectly normal. There was no trace of virus or antibodies or strange technology. I related the events several times. I felt strange in the telling because each person assumed it was a dream or perhaps an implanted memory or maybe even magic. I don’t believe it was a dream or magic and I highly doubt an implanted memory would slip by without some sign of interference or tampering. The entire experience lasted for a year and I feel a year older. I feel as if I lived it, I know I lived it. The League did not disregard my report on this occurrence though I did not enjoy filing it but felt as if it needed to be noted. No one disregarded it but not one other person has a flickering memory related to the events of… The Ends.

I couldn’t let this go. I started digging and it was easy enough to find what I was looking for. I found Mrs. Cleary volunteering at a youth drop in center in The Narrows. I made a visit on the pretense of funding a new art program which I in fact funded and found her doing paperwork in a small windowless office. She was the woman I knew, kind and joyful with a strong air of authority. She was pleased to receive the funding and happy to meet me. She showed no signs of recognition or any lingering memories of the nonexistent past year.

Daniel I deliberately ran into while wearing the cowl. He was a GCPD rookie officer and I found him chasing down a small time drug dealer near the docks. He was shocked to see the Batman but again he did not know who I was or seemed to have recently lived through a life altering event. Amber was alive which pleased me and I paid her family a visit as they ran in the same social circles as I did. Again nothing unusual. Over the next few months I searched them out and found nothing. 

The only two left as the end of June approached were the Honda children. I made a trip to New York for Wayne Enterprises business which in all reality needed my attention. I attended the meetings and finished up quickly. I found the boy Jackson as he left his school with a few classmates. I casually strolled by and caught the boy’s eye, nothing, no recognition at all. He continued on past me with his friends. I tired the same thing out side of the girl’s school but I was out of luck. I did not chance to see her.

I stare out the large crystal clear glass wall of my hotel room at the lights of New York. I will don the cape and cowl tonight and run the roof tops of Manhattan. It is my last evening in this city and I do not wish to extend my visit. I will search out the Honda home and see what I can.

The wind is warm and strong on the rooftops. I can see into the ninth floor windows that are lit up as the Honda family moves around their apartment. I am perched directly across the street looking down into their lives. I see the boy and his parents in the family room, the older sister with her phone at the kitchen table but that is all. I linger there for another ten minutes before I see anything. Across from me on the opposite roof top I see movement. The girl comes to the ledge of her roof and looks out over the city. She has a back pack strapped on and looks repeatedly behind her. She is sneaking out. I move quickly before I lose her. I land quietly with only the ruffle of my cape on the roof a short distance from her and I am surprised, no more than surprised when she wheels around to face me a determined scowl on her face. She doesn’t flinch. She stands her ground watching me.

Her hair is long and blowing wildly in the wind. I can see the yellow of a healing bruise around her right eye and I notice the bandages wrapped around her knuckles. She appears to be a teenage girl but what I see in her eyes is frighteningly older. She carries the weight of experience and the pain of loss. It is clearly written there. She knows. I know she knows. She says nothing as she stares me down waiting to see what my next move will be. I take a step closer and she only straightens her back and tilts her head up to continue watching me. I debate whether to leave it at this or to speak but she knows. In the deep gravelly voice of the cowl I say her name and she knows that I know. She answers in turn.

“Spencer Honda.”

“Bruce Wayne.”

 

THE ENDS


End file.
